


The human factor

by laturprofarkalesari



Category: Cyborg 009
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-01-31 14:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 87,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12683838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laturprofarkalesari/pseuds/laturprofarkalesari
Summary: Few days in the lives of the people involved in the cyborg soldiers project were as hectic as those.Fill-in fic, takes place during the episode "Black Ghost lives" of the 2002 anime. This story contains mentions of physical and mental abuse, readers discretion advised.





	1. End of day 1

**Author's Note:**

> For this story I followed the canon of the 2002 anime, but added elements from other iterations of the series as long as they didn't contradict things explicitly established in the 2002 version.
> 
> The translations of sentences and pieces of dialogue not in English which are not explained in the text of the story itself are in the end notes.

As he looked at the wreck of the helicopter burning up in flames, Jet couldn't help himself and reached out to pat the other man's shoulder, to congratulate him for a job well done. He managed to lay his hand on him, but a moment later he couldn't feel anything under his touch anymore.

At first he thought that the man had just moved away, bothered by the uninvited physical contact, but then he heard a strange sound, like a whine, and instinctively turned to look at his side. As he did, he saw that the other man had collapsed to the ground, writhing and lamenting loudly while holding his knee.

At that, Françoise gasped and knelt down. She tried to reach out to take a hold of his shoulder only to stop just about, feeling like something was holding her back. Jet was standing still, frozen in fear, and looked at them with a terrified expression on his face.

" _...es schmerzt... hilfe..._ " Albert hissed between his teeth. It took the other two some time to realize those were supposed to be words, and not just another string of incoherent sounds he was letting out in his pain.

"What... what did he say?" Jet eventually muttered, snapped out of his confusion by that realization.

"What do you think he's saying?" Françoise shouted. She turned her sight on Albert, then back up at Jet: "Help me, I need to check his leg--"

"He just shot a missile from that knee, what do you think you can check?" Jet burst out, interrupting her. Immediately after saying those words, however, he knelt to the ground and took a hold of Albert by his shoulders. He tried to keep him still, only to have his hands violently shaken away as the other man thrashed around. He tried again, using all the strength he could, and this time he managed to at least keep a hold onto his arms.

"Go on, check him!" Jet yelled at Françoise, taking advantage of a moment during which Albert seemed to have calmed down. "What you're waiting for, now?"

"...you're right, sorry." She answered automatically, her head still a complete blank. She had spoken out of concern, but in reality had no idea what to do. Still, she had to at least try something, anything. Determined, she reached out for the man's leg, only to quickly pull away her hand and let out a gasp when she felt something strange under her touch.

"What's... what's the problem?" Jet asked, struggling to keep the other man down and still.

"Cold..." Françoise answered, realizing that under the fabric there was metal, obviously. She breathed in, and quickly straightened her face. "Sorry for that, I'll check his leg now." She added before putting her hands forward again and grabbing onto Albert's leg below his knee, this time with more decision.

She was trying to pull his boot off when a thudding noise startled her; instinctively, she looked in the direction it came from, to find out it was Albert slamming his metallic hand to the ground, while Jet was fruitlessly trying to take a hold of his right arm to stop him.

"Now calm down, dammit! Wanna break your hand, too?" Jet shouted, moving around to try and avoid being hit in the face by the other man flailing his arm.

"... I can't..." Albert replied in a strangled voice. " _Lass..._ " He managed to say between gasps while, with his other hand, he held onto Jet's arm, squeezing hard.

Jet was about to make a comment about not understanding what he was saying, but a jolt of pain shooting through his body stopped him, and he couldn't help letting out a scream.

"Are you alright?" Françoise asked.

"Think about him, not me!" Jet replied, doubling his efforts in holding the other down.

"Yes, you're right." She answered, turning her head towards Albert. "But how... how did this even happen... he shoot a missile, that leg, it can't be real... he can't be feeling pain..."

 _'His nervous system extends to his whole body, despite all his modifications.'_ The small voice they had heard before resonated in their heads once again.

"Very smart of them, keeping that in." Jet replied, sarcastically.

_'Retaining a human brain is what differentiates you from robots, and the reason why--'_

"Stop it now!" Françoise protested loudly, shutting up the two. "You, can you warn someone of what's going on--"

 _'They already know. You all have a mechanism inside that sends a distress signal whenever any of you has a malfunction like this.'_ The voice replied. _'Help should arrive in a few minutes, please take care of 004 until they're here.'_

Jet snorted loudly. "They can send helicopters to shoot us in a matter of seconds, but help needs time--" He started to say, only to be interrupted by Albert wailing and squeezing his arm with too much strength, making him scream again. Taken by surprise, Françoise instinctively recoiled in fear.

"... _lass_... let... let go of me... now..." Albert then said, trying to wriggle out of Jet's grasp, his breath coming out in short and sharp gasps.

"Please, try to calm down, we're here to help--" Françoise tried to tell him, interrupting herself when she saw Albert starting to shake his body around, more and more violently until he was free from Jet's grasp. He rolled over and moved onto his fours, crawling a few steps away.

"Stop there!" Jet shouted as he leapt forward and held the other by his ankle.

"There, stay there... don't--" Albert tried to say before abruptly interrupting himself as he lowered his head and threw up, his body shaking violently as he hurled.

" _Mon Dieu!_ " Françoise gasped and, moving on her hands and feet, backed off even further.

_'004!'_

"Shit..." Jet mumbled, his eyes wide open in fear. After that moment of surprise he moved forward and reached Albert. He wrapped both arms around the man's chest, to avoid he could fall face first on the ground, and held him up.

When the other had stopped retching Jet pulled him back and put him laying down on the ground. That man was heavier than he looked, he noticed as he moved him around with some difficulty.

Finally lying on his back, Albert seemed to have calmed down, and was taking in air in slow, short breaths.

"Feeling better?" Jet asked, putting his forearm under the other man's head as an improvised pillow.

"A little..." Albert answered in a small voice.

Hearing the man's voice gave Françoise some courage. She ripped some fabric from her scarf and reached the two, then gently wiped Albert's mouth clean. For the whole time he had done his best to hold still and don't move, and somehow had managed despite still shaking and squirming.

"Thank you. Both of you." Albert replied when she had moved away, finally allowing himself to wince. "But it's starting again..."

"C'mon, keep it together!" Jet said.

Françoise held onto Albert's left hand, hesitating a moment at the cold sensation under her touch. "Yes, please. They are coming, I can hear them getting closer!" She then said, insisting and holding his hand firmly between hers.

"I can't make promises..." He replied, attempting a smile that ended looking more like a rictus grin, before starting to tense all over again.

"Here, hold my arm if you have to!" Jet told him, tending him his limb to clutch onto. Albert didn't take him up on the offer, and instead took a fistful of grass, which he tore from the ground as he started to shake again. Then he curled up and held his knee, hissing and lamenting.

"Please, calm down... _beruhingen du, bitte_." Françoise told him. "Help is coming, they are close..." She then added, speaking with a thick voice, while holding him by his shoulders.

Just as she was done saying those words, the noise of an helicopter getting closer and closer had started to become more and more clearly audible to Jet as well. Both him and her couldn't help a smile as they saw it landing not too far away from the still burning wreckage of the other helicopter. The wind created by its blades hit them with all its violence but they kept at their places, trying to shield Albert from it with their bodies.

Four figures dressed in dark outfits came out of the helicopter and reached them. Two were carrying weapons, and intimated Jet and Françoise to stand up and raise their hands. However, neither of them moved an inch until the other two people, holding a stretcher, had reached them and Albert; only then they put their hands up, got on their feet and moved away.

Before walking away, Françoise kept looking in their direction for another few seconds: one of the two people had produced a mask connected to a tube and a small can from a medical box he was carrying, then put the mask over Albert's mouth and nose.

"Breathe in, deeply." The man said. Getting no reaction from Albert aside from a lament, he added: " _Verstehst du? Atme ein!_ "

" _Ja... moment..._ " Albert replied as he moved to sit up, the expression of discomfort on his face very noticeable despite the mask partially covering it. Françoise wanted to protest, but she knew there wasn't much she could do, so she just turned around and walked towards the helicopter.

Once they had both been brought in, Jet and Françoise were pushed to one side, to sit on a double seat made of canvas fabric that looked more like a camp bed, between the two armed men who then proceeded to handcuff the both of them. A few seconds later the other two people carrying Albert arrived as well; they carefully put him laying down on the seats in front the other two cyborgs and tied him down with some belts, then yelled at the pilots to go. After a warning to everyone on board to hold on tight, they slowly took flight.

When the helicopter had finally stabilized, Jet looked at Albert: he had stopped thrashing around and lamenting, thankfully, but his face looked as blank and deadpan as a mask. He turned towards Françoise, and saw her looking at the other man as well.

 _'He's been heavily sedated, and it's already starting to take effect.'_ The little voice explained them. _'He's conscious, but in a few minutes it's unlikely he'll realize where he is, or even that someone is around him. He should be falling asleep soon.'_

"I hope he will be alright." Françoise said in a low voice, almost a whisper.

 _'I hope so as well. But it's going to be difficult.'_ The voice replied. _'His problem seems to be that his brain is rejecting the mechanical parts, and there isn't a cure or remedy for that. And since his whole body is mechanical it's easier said than done. The only thing he can do right now is fight it, and he will need all the help and support you can give him. Anyway, I have to leave you now, please don't tell anyone I've been talking with you. Stay calm, and take care. 004 will be needing you.'_

After that the voice fell silent, leaving Françoise and Jet with a strange, uncomfortable feeling lingering for a while. He exchanged a look with her, then turned his sight on Albert once again: the other man was breathing with some difficulty, that could be heard very clearly, but aside from his chest raising and falling he was completely still.

When the helicopter had finally arrived to destination, it had already started breaking dawn. After landing the two armed people were the first to stand up, pulling the two cyborgs on their feet and dragging them along. Françoise tried to give a last look at Albert, but before she could even turn her head in his direction the guards had already taken them out of the helicopter.

Without saying a thing or making any resistance, Jet and Françoise walked along with the guards, exchanging a look to reassure each other every once in a while.

The walk from the landing ground to the facility happened in a complete and uncanny silence, except for the noise of four pairs of footsteps. During the trip Jet had looked at the guards from head to toes, repeatedly: there were only two of them, and his legs weren't restrained. He could have easily taken them down in a few moves, then tried to escape with that girl - he still had enough fuel in his legs, and with her help they could have been able to locate all enemies coming after them and any possible obstacles, and find the best route to escape.

He had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long while, and now there it was, on a silver platter. But he couldn't leave that other guy on his own. He didn't trust a single word of what that voice had been telling him, but he fully agreed on one thing - they had to do something for that man.

Jet looked at the entrance to the facility once more, then lowered his head and kept on walking. A part of himself kept on repeating that he would have regretted this, and did his best to ignore it.

They walked inside the huge elevator at the very end of the familiar long corridor that brought them to the other side of the facility, and silently waited until it reached its destination. When the doors opened and the guards pushed them outside, the building around them had changed: the relatively large hallways had turned narrower, there were no more windows giving outside, and the place was lit up only by neon lights.

Jet had walked that corridor hundreds of times by now, and had managed to learn to ignore to the feeling of oppression in his chest that he usually felt going from one part of the building to the other. But now there it was again, as strong as the first time he had been brought there. He should have been more calm, being there meant that the day was over and he could rest, but after all that had happened he couldn't help it.

He raised his head and looked at the girl, hoping that exchanging a glance with her would have helped him calm down, like it had done before. But instead the sad, scared expression he saw on her face made him feel even worse - not that he could blame her for feeling that way. He turned his head away again, before she could see his face.

Minutes later they finally reached their destination, the corridor where their rooms were. The guard holding Jet stopped in his steps, while the other took Françoise by her arm and pulled her further away, a couple of doors past them. Jet's attention was right on her and the guard guiding her for the whole time, as the man opened the door to her room and pushed her inside.

In the meanwhile, the guard standing next to him had opened the door to his room as well, and had already told him to get in at least twice. But Jet didn't move until he was sure that the other guard had locked the door where 003 was, despite being well aware of the fact he had a weapon pointed at himself. Only after seeing that the door was closed he finally walked inside his own room, without making any resistance.

He took a few steps inside the room and stood still, waiting for the guards to take off his handcuffs and for the door to be closed and locked behind himself. When they were finally gone he dropped his arms to his sides and let out a sigh of relief. The window in the middle of the door opened, and the guards barked some order. He barely paid attention to their words, all his energy in that moment devoted to taking off his clothes. He then walked to the bed and threw himself on it still in his underwear, without even putting his pajama on.

It didn't take too long for Jet to fall asleep. He barely had the time to wonder how the other guy was doing right now and hope that the girl would have passed a good night, before all the fatigue and stress of that day got the best of him.

* * *

"He's completely stable now."

"Well then, we're done." The older man proclaimed, allowing everyone else around to express their joy by either making a comment or heaving out a sigh of relief. Massaging the back of his neck, he turned towards a couple of nurses and said: "Keep on administering anesthetic every four hours, whether he's awake or not, and whenever he starts lamenting."

Both women nodded silently, and waited for him and the other three men standing around the operating table to move away, and only then they reached it and started to unhook the cyborg from the machinery standing around the operating table.

"Be in my office this afternoon at around half past three, Gilmore. I want to have a thorough check of that leg and hand." The older man then said while taking a few steps away.

"Understood, doctor Brown." The other replied, nodding.

"As for you, Whisky, try to be there with us as well. We're going to need your suggestions on a few matters."

"Of course. I might be late since I have some other work to do, but I'll be there."

"Good. As for everyone else, if I'll need your help I'll call you personally. Now, if you will excuse me, I'd like to go. I'm starting to feel very tired." Brown said as he took off the surgical cap he was wearing and walked towards the doors, without even waiting for a reply from the others. Not that any of them would have remarked on that, or even tried to point it out to him - he looked tired, and given the time it was surprising he hadn't just fallen asleep on the table halfway through the operation.

After the man was gone, Gilmore turned back towards the operating table and looked as four assistants lifted the cyborg from the table and put him on a stretcher on wheels. Immediately after the nurses approached it and covered the cyborg with a blanket, then pushed the stretcher outside the room.

"Good work, everyone. See you tomorrow." Gilmore said in a deadpan voice, without even turning around to look in the face the people he was talking to, while following the women at a slow pace.

When he reached them in the room where the cyborg would have been kept under observation for the night, he was surprised to find that they had been preceded by a familiar face.

"Doctor Brown!" He called out when he saw the man.

"Don't be so loud, Gilmore." Brown replied, grimacing.

"Oh, sorry. I was just surprised to see you here." Gilmore explained, speaking lower. "I imagined you had already gone to your room, given what--"

"I would never leave without personally checking the last things." Brown replied, interrupting the other, as he looked at the nurses hooking the cyborg to the machinery around the bed.

"O-Obviously." He said, embarrassed. "But I would have taken care of everything by myself, given how tonight it's an extraordinary situation--"

"Precisely because it's an extraordinary situation, I want to personally oversee everything." Brown interrupted Gilmore once again. "However, I could definitely use your help. I have only four hours of sleep in me, and I could very easily mess up something."

"Yes, of course..." Gilmore answered, walking closer to the bed. While the nurses acted following Brown's indications, he checked that all the machinery that was being activated worked properly and, most important, gave out the right feedback. With everyone's help, everything was done in a couple of minutes.

"Good, everything's working fine. If there's any problem - any _serious_ problem, I mean, come wake me up." Brown eventually said. "Otherwise, simply follow the instructions I've given you. I will come back to check things in the evening."

"Yes, doctor Brown." The nurse said, nodding.

"Well then. Time for me to really go. Take care, Gilmore, and good work to you two." He said, this time looking into the faces of the other three, before turning them his back and walking away.

After Brown had left the room, Gilmore turned towards the women and calmly said: "Keep up the good work, and good night."

"Thank you, too, doctor Gilmore. Rest well."

"'night." The other nurse said, laconically. After hearing them bidding him farewell, he turned around and walked out of the room as well. Once the door has closed behind him, he sped up his pace until he reached a free elevator. He climbed to the floor where Brown's room was, and quickly strode in its direction, hoping to be able to catch him before he had already locked himself in.

Thankfully for him that wasn't the case, and he was able to reach Brown as he was still walking through the corridor. He slowed down to a light jog and approached him. "Doctor Brown, please wait!" He called out the other.

"Don't run in the corridors, Gilmore." Brown replied without even turning around. "I heard your footsteps loud and clear."

"Er... oh, I see... I'm sorry." Gilmore then said, embarrassed.

Still giving the other man his back, Brown started talking: "I have been thinking about your proposal, Gilmore, and I personally--"

"That's not what I want to talk about, doctor Brown." He interrupted the other, speaking loudly and firmly.

Only after hearing those words the older man turned around to face Gilmore, a surprised expression on his face.

"What I wanted to ask is how you're feeling." Gilmore said, calmly.

"Can't you tell just by looking?" Brown sarcastically replied. Then, speaking in a more neutral tone of voice, he said: "I appreciate your concern, don't misunderstand me. It's been quite a week, and it's not over yet."

"I know. In that case, shouldn't you take a day or two off--"

"As soon as everything will be in order, I will." Brown cut him short. "If I slowed down, I'd risk slowing down the whole project. And I would never forgive myself if I did that to us."

As Brown went on speaking, Gilmore noticed that the man was getting more and more enthusiastic. What surprised him wasn't his intensity - he had seen and heard him light up like that many times while talking about the project - nor how sudden and out of nowhere it had been, but the fact it had happened right there and then. Up to then the man's voice had been very tired and strained, and now he sounded suddenly filled with energy.

For a second Gilmore even wondered if he had actually worried too much about the man, but a simple look at his tired face, especially at the bags under his eyes, quickly wiped that doubt away from his mind.

"I understand, doctor Brown, but you shouldn't be pushing yourself this hard. Forgive my bluntness, but given your health you can't just keep on exherting yourself like this."

Brown chuckled. "Please don't underestimate me, I'm tougher than I might look." He replied, almost defiantly. "But you are absolutely right, I should really go and rest, at my age it's not good. So, if there isn't any other serious reason for you to hold me back, I'd like to go. It's getting very late, after all."

"Y-Yes, you're right." Gilmore answered, lowering his head in embarrassment for a moment. "Well then, goodnight doctor Brown."

Brown stood silent and still for a few seconds, leaving Gilmore confused until he realized that the other man was simply lost in thought. Then, speaking calmly, he said: "Are you free tomorrow, after dinner?"

Surprised by that sudden invitation, Gilmore hesitated. Before he could say anything, however, Brown had started speaking again while shaking his head. "No, not tomorrow, I have another appointment. How about the day after that?"

"Er, yes... unless something unexpected comes up, that is."

"Then try to keep yourself free, I might need your help." His voice was level. "I'll tell you more about it later, anyway."

"Obviously. Now go and rest, please." Gilmore commented.

"Well then, take care." He said before turning around and start walking away.

"Yes. Goodnight, doctor Brown." Gilmore answered with some delay, as he looked at the other man getting farther and farther away.

* * *

A long while had passed since they had turned off the lights, possibly an hour or so, but Françoise was still as agitated as she had been for the whole evening. Her heart was racing, and the thumping in her chest felt almost amplified by the complete silence in her room, and the fact she was completely still. For a moment she was afraid that her enhancements had accidentally turned on, and that was the reason why she kept on hearing that insistent, monotone noise so loud and clear.

But even if she had had the ability of cutting off her listening completely, there was no way she could have fallen asleep while she was that nervous. She was feeling tired, every part of her body ached after an evening of training and the night she just had to deal with, but her brain was still fully awake.

Françoise pushed away the sheets covering her and sat up on the bed. She took in a few deep breaths and stood up; then, walking slowly, she reached the bathroom corner - she had walked that short distance, literally less than six short steps, so many times now she didn't even need to help herself with her enhanced sight. She finally reached the faucet and drank from it, slowly and in small gulps. When she felt better she turned the tap off and pressed her back against the wall, then sat down on the floor.

Usually the cold feeling of the tiles against her body helped her relax. She had no idea why, but it worked. That night, however, not even that seemed to help her, and the cold only made her feel more awake. Realizing this she stood up and slowly walked back to the bed, despite being sure that it wasn't going to help - she had been tossing and turning ever since she had tried to lay down. She pulled the covers up to her chin, and started to seriously take in consideration the possibility of asking for some help.

She hated having to do that, calling the guards and letting them and the doctors into her room, and she always tried as hard as she could not to call them. Up until that moment she had managed not to, but now she felt like she had to. Her chest was starting to hurt, and she couldn't tell if the ache she was feeling was due to her heart beating fast, or because of how her nervousness was making her breathe uneasily. Or possibly she was just so agitated she couldn't tell anymore which parts of her body were aching and which weren't.

She slowly breathed in and out, and little by little started feeling a bit better. But she still felt awake, and was starting to lose any hope she could fall asleep anytime soon. She decided to wait some more time, keeping on breathing in that same manner, but it didn't work. Like she had been expecting and dreading.

Moving slowly, she stood up from her bed once again and walked towards the door. Helping herself with her sight she reached a small button on the wall next to it and pushed it a couple of times, then waited. About a minute later the window in the door opened, so suddenly that she couldn't help jump back in fear - that, and the ray of light suddenly entering her room disoriented her for a moment.

"Yes? What's going on?" One of the guards asked, peering into the room.

" _J'ai pas sommeil, et--_ "  


"What?"

"S-Sorry... what I wanted to say is, I don't have... er, I can't sleep." Françoise corrected herself. "I'm not feeling well, and..."

"Wait a moment." The guard replied before closing the window. She slowly walked back to her bed and sat down on it. Things were going to get better now, she kept on repeating to herself, there was no need to be nervous like this.

She heard the noise of the neon lights crackling and closed her eyes, opening them again only after recognizing the noise of the door unlocking and of footsteps getting closer. Despite having prepared herself, the artificial illumination filling the room disorientated her again.

"So, what seems to be the problem, 003?" A voice asked her.

"I can't sleep, doctor Gaia." She replied, with some disappointment, before she could even clearly see in front of herself, only recognizing the voice. She hadn't been expecting him, of all people, to walk in. Then again, given how late it was, she was lucky any of the doctors was awake at all.

"Anything else wrong?" The man asked back as he took a hold of her arm and felt her wrist. Instinctively Françoise tried to pull away, only to calm down when she realized he was checking her pulse. Not that it would have been a problem anyway, since Gaia let go of her arm immediately after. "Stand up and turn around." He then ordered.

Despite being still dazzled, Françoise did as she was asked. When she could see clearly, all that there was in front of her eyes was the wall. She felt a draft, then something cold against her back, and shuddered. It took her a moment to realize that Gaia had pulled up the shirt of her pajama and was pressing a stethoscope against her back, to listen to her heartbeat.

A few seconds later the man pulled down her shirt and moved back. "You don't feel tired, do you?"

"No..." She answered, meekly.

"Alright then. Turn around." He replied.

She nodded and did what she had been asked. Now that she could see clearly she took a good look at the people in front of her, and saw Gaia standing next to a couple of guards.

She then focused on Gaia, who was searching for something into a leather medical bag. Eventually, he produced a small bottle. "Give me your hand." He said while opening it.

Françoise gave him a small nod and reached out with her hand, and Gaia passed her a couple of tablets from inside it. "Take these and go to bed." He explained while closing the bottle and putting it away into the bag.

"Thank you." She answered.

"The lights will be off in five minutes." Gaia said before turning her his back. He then headed for the door, accompanied by the two guards. Until the men were outside and the door was closed, Françoise didn't move a muscle.

She waited for the noise of the door being locked, then walked towards the bathroom. She drank some water from the faucet and swallowed the pills, then headed back to the main room and got back in bed again. She pulled the covers over her head, and waited for that nice sensation of lightheadedness to take her over for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Es schmerzt, hilfe. - It hurts, help.
> 
> Mon Dieu! - My God!
> 
> Beruhingen du, bitte. - Here Françoise is trying to say "Calm down, please", but she made a couple mistakes. I'll have Albert remark on it later.
> 
> Verstehst du? Atme ein! - Do you understand? Breathe in!  
> Ja, moment. - Yes, a moment.


	2. Day 2

Walking through those white, blank corridors was as boring and uneventful as usual. At one point Gilmore casually turned his head to his side to give a look at Whisky, just to break the monotony. The man was calmly walking next to him, blankly staring in front of himself as if he had been hypnotized by something on doctor Brown's back. It was exact same expression Whisky usually had whenever he was among other people, either in formal or informal situations.

He could have counted on the fingers of one hand the times he had seen him with an expression that wasn't a blank stare. When doing or talking about experiments or operating on the cyborgs, on the other hand, the man was as easy to read as an open book, and his face showed every single emotion he was going through. Gilmore guessed that maybe the fact they shared that trait was the real reason why Brown seemed to be so fond of that man.

He quickly glanced at Whisky another time, then turned his head to look ahead again. He hoped that the other man hadn't noticed that he had looking at him, but given his lost and vacuous stare, it was unlikely Gilmore would have had to worry about a thing.

As they were finally getting closer to the meeting room Gilmore decided to stop thinking about that, and instead calm down and mentally go over the results of the analysis they had just carried out. His colleagues would have asked him questions, and while most of the talking would have been done by Brown he would have had to answer a few things himself, and he was horrible at improvising.

As they finally reached the room, Gilmore waited for Brown to open the door and, only after the man and Whisky had walked in, he followed the two.

"Good morning." Gilmore greeted the other dozen of people inside while walking straight to his chair, without paying attention to the greetings he was receiving in return. Only when he heard Brown's voice he started to actually listen to what everyone around was saying.

"Good afternoon to you all, and forgive us for the delay." The man started as he took a seat at the head of the table.

"Please don't worry about that, doctor Brown."

"Thank you, doctor Dressler, but we're still half an hour late." Brown replied in a level voice, while making himself comfortable.

"Before we start, doctor Gaia, thank you for bringing us your memo about last night right away." Gilmore said, taking advantage of a moment of silence.

"You're welcome." The man replied, grinning.

"I just gave it a quick glance, and will read it in full during my dinner break." Gilmore went on. "Anyway, I'll postpone the visit with 003, to let her rest. That will be taken care of the day after tomorrow, since tomorrow we'll be busy with 004. To avoid wasting time, when this briefing will be over we'll be visiting 002 instead, I already warned the guards to take him to the laboratory as soon as we'll be done here. Of course everyone in here working on him should join us."

When the he was done talking, Brown nodded in silence. "Alright then. Anyway, before we start there's something else doctor Gilmore needs to share with us." He then said, almost casually.

Hearing his name being called, Gilmore jumped up, startled. After a moment of confusion he realized what Brown meant, straightened his back, cleared his voice and started to talk. "Yes, of course. Dear colleagues, I have been thinking of carrying out a cohabitation experiment with the cyborgs."

"A cohabitation experiment?" Gamo asked.

"Only for 002, 003 and 004. Obviously 001 will be kept in our care." Gilmore explained calmly. Then, back to the firm tone he had used until then, he went on: "I was thinking of having them share a room during their spare time, outside of training, to see how they behave and record their reactions and interactions."

Gilmore finished talking, and there was some murmuring in the room among the other men. "And what kind of result do you hope to obtain with this experiment?" One of them asked.

"I'm not sure myself, to be fair." Gilmore answered.

Someone let out a small laugh. As soon as it was done, Brown took the word, and started speaking sternly. "Personally, I found it an interesting idea, although potentially dangerous. Which is why, during our last meeting, I proposed the idea of the joint training session that was carried out last night. The purpose of it was, as I explained last time, to see their behavior when forced into a situation where they have to collaborate with each other, despite not having met before. And, as you can guess now, it was a way to test the waters for this experiment."

As soon as he had finished explaining, the murmuring started again.

"And after seeing the positive results yesterday, you think we can carry out the experiment outside the battlefield as well." Dressler was the first to comment.

Brown nodded. "Having them interact might help raise their morale, which would make things easier for us when working on them."

"But it could also create a situation where they could gang up against us." Gaia commented. "In particular 002, don't forget how uncooperative he still is."

"We took that into account, obviously. But having them get closer to each other could also create a situation where it could be easier for us to more easily keep them in check." Brown explained. "And I personally think that the latter would be the more likely possibility. Don't forget how subservient 002 suddenly became because of 003 and 004's presence, according to the data we personally gathered, not to mention what the medical staff and the guards told us."

"I will give you that." Gaia replied. "But, like you just said, we shouldn't forget how potentially dangerous this is."

"We're obviously going to take great care with that. The room I have pinpointed for the experiment is located on the lowest floor in the building, and will be constantly surrounded by a dozen armed guards. Like all other rooms in the facility, it's lined with materials that will block 003's abilities, and obviously 002 and 004's enhancements will be deactivated. And of course they will also be kept under constant surveillance through microphones." Brown said.

"No cameras?" A voice asked from the other side of the table.

"We decided not to, in order to preserve the privacy of 003 as much as possible. As silly as it might sound, given the overall situation." Brown explained. "I've spoken with the people looking after her, and we decided that this was an acceptable compromise."

There was some murmuring after that explanation, but it calmed down pretty quickly. Gilmore turned his head at Brown, confused; where did this come from? The man hadn't told him he had already made this kind of arrangements.

"Go on..." Gaia finally said, looking and sounding interested.

"Our initial experiment will be only for a few days or so, and depending to the results we'll see if it's worth to allow it to continue." Brown explained. "And if the worst case scenario were to happen, like you said, we will react accordingly by punishing them. If the case, we'll resort to the most appropriate responses: they'll be put back in their rooms separately, and not allowed contact with the others in the future. If we must, we'll even wipe their minds of the memories of what happened."

In response, Gaia put his elbows on the table and clasped his fingers. "We should have done that all along, I've always been saying that..."

"We're not dealing with robots, doctor Brown and doctor Gaia." Gamo replied. "That kind of operation could create serious damage to their brains. It's not something to be used lightly."

"Exactly, _could_." Gaia replied. "We've had a high chance of success so far, and we're steadily improving."

"But we also still have a high failure rate. And if we accidentally cause them brain damage through an operation like that, it's not something we can fix with mechanical prostetics. Then we'd have to pick other test subjects to replace the ones that are no longer fit for our experiment."

"Perfectly said, doctor Ryan." Brown answered. He then turned his head up and, talking in a slightly altered tone while looking in front of himself, added: "I appreciate your concern, doctor Whisky, but before I was just speaking hypotetically. Putting all options on the table, to give doctor Gaia an answer and explain the situation. I'm well aware of the risks, and you should know very well how I feel about decisions that could seriously jeopardize this experiment. Until I'm part of this project, wiping their memories will remain the very last option, and only be used in extreme cases."

With a shrug, Gaia replied: "I see, I see."

"Anyway, to sum up, I personally support Gilmore's proposal. As I said, we will try for a short period first, two, three days or so, and then see." Brown then added, his voice once again calm.

"I have to admit, it's an interesting idea for me as well." Gamo commented. "Sharing a common space might also have positive influence on their biological parts. I think we should at least try."

"Yes, I agree, too." Dressler said.

"I'm more inclined to agree with Gaia, it's dangerous." A voice coming from the other side of the table said. "But still, the results could be interesting..."

"As I said, great care will be taken when putting the project into practice. Everything is under Gilmore's supervision, after all." Brown explained. He waited for a few seconds and, after not getting any answer or objection, he went on: "Well then, if there isn't any other question or more specific doubt, let's vote about it. Raise your hand if you agree with Gilmore's proposal." He said, then raised his hand. A couple of seconds later everyone else in the room had done the same.

"You too, doctor Gaia?" Brown asked, noticing the man.

"I still have my doubts, but it sounds interesting." He answered, a smirk on his face. "I hope doctor Gilmore will write down a detailed report, when _his_ experiment will be over."

"Of course." Gilmore replied, pointedly, while launching a glare at Gaia. There was something in the other man's tone that gave him the impression he was being sarcastic, but he couldn't exactly tell.

"Alright. So, Gilmore's proposal is approved." Brown said, lowering his arm. He turned towards the man and added: "You have our unanimous support, and especially mine. We will finish discussing the finer details of this later, after the briefing."

While Brown had been explaining himself, Gilmore had stood still and silent, in complete disbelief: so his superior was not only really, actually interested in his 'experiment', but also sincerely supportive of it and eager to see it happen? He couldn't believe that a smart man like Brown could not only be on board with such a stupid idea, but also openly enthusiastic about it, like he had never seen him before. As he processed all this, a part of him couldn't help feeling guilty for having dragged the man into it.

"Thank you." Gilmore eventually said.

"If there isn't any objection on your part, I'd like to start the project tonight." Brown replied.

"T-Tonight?" He repeated, surprised.

"Yes, we'll start as soon as we're done with the visit to 002 and the check to 004. I'll have everything prepared in the meanwhile."

"But the replacement leg for 004 won't be ready before tomorrow..."

"I know." Brown nodded. "But finding themselves in a situation like that will surely make them bond, and as I said that could turn out to be very useful for us. We will have them all carried to the room as soon as we're done with their visits."

Gilmore nodded, silently. "I see, you're right. Start tonight, if you think it's better this way."

"Good. And talking about 004, if there isn't anything else to say we can move on to the main issue of today's meeting." Brown said. A short pause, and he started speaking again. "So, me, doctor Whisky and doctor Gilmore did a throughout check of 004's enhancements, and it seems to confirm most of our suspects."

"A-As some of us had suspected, the reason for the malfunction with 004 has nothing to do with the quality of his limbs." Gilmore explained, still confused by Brown's attitude, not to mention the whole situation. "The quality of the built of his leg is beyond reproach, we carried out all possible tests and it responds to electrical and simulated mental impulses without any delay or problem."

"I did a careful check of its synthetic peripheral nervous as well." Gamo added. "They're all perfectly functional, no damage at all at any point. Because of this, it's obvious that the source of this problem is something completely different, and it's not an issue with the prosthetic leg in itself."

"And what about the hand?"

"That wasn't our fault, either." Gilmore started explaining while pushing some sheets towards the middle of the table. "All the damage was external, and unlike the leg at no point it sent us any signal of malfunction. We tested it thoroughly, and it worked perfectly. In this case, it's more likely that 004 damaged it himself while in pain. Furthermore, the technicians from the mechanical lab said it will take no more than a few hours to repair it, since all they need to do is changing the external layers of metal, which reinforces our theory. We will ask 004 when he'll wake up, to be safe."

Some of the men around the table silently nodded in assent, while a couple of others read through the papers that Gilmore had passed around.

"So, in short, the problem is with him..."

"We can't tell yet, doctor Gaia." Gamo replied. "We need to carry out further analysis on 004 himself before we can confirm that for sure."

"There really isn't much to confirm." The other answered, casually. "If the problem isn't in the enhancements, then it's in the test subject."

"There's a chance that might be the case, yes." Gamo said, speaking calmly. "However, we need to take into accounts all possibilities before jumping to conclusions."

Gaia chuckled. "I'm not jumping to anything: the leg and the hand work when you test them, right? That can only mean that it's 004 who's rejecting them, despite those limbs being made specifically for him. And if this is the situation, well, there's only a solution I see..."

"As doctor Whisky already said, that's a possibility." Gilmore intervened, firmly. "However, given the peculiar situation of a test subject like 004 we need to be careful in our judgement, take into account every possibility and explore any and all options."

"Indeed." Brown intervened. "And besides, there is a lot of data that can be mined from him. We still have use for 004, letting go of him at this point would be ridiculous."

"Really?" Gaia raised an eyebrow while grinning. "In that case, I fully agree. However, allow me to remind you that we shouldn't let the whole project get stuck. Not at the point we are at right now. If we have a problem with the test subject, we have to change it--"

"And you think that it wouldn't bring the project to a halt?" Gamo interrupted him, without raising his voice. "Finding another test subject for this experiment in particular would be very difficult, and restarting the whole thing from zero would be ridiculously expensive. Furthermore, what are we going to do with his biological parts if we decide to change subject?"

"Since when disposing of unusable biological parts is a problem?"

"I'm not talking of that, doctor Dressler. The brain of the test subject we're using in the 004 project is still working and functional, not damaged in the slightest. We can't simply get rid of it as if it was a broken limb." Gamo replied.

"Seems to me that you have some qualms regarding this 004..." Gaia intervened.

"Qualms?" Gamo repeated.

"You're hesitant about this, I meant--"

"I understood your words, don't worry." He interrupted the other man. "What I'm confused about is why you said that. Why would I be hesitant about 004, according to you?"

"I have no idea. That's why I asked." Gaia nonchalantly replied. "It's just that I can't help noticing how you seem to care more than you should about him..."

"I shouldn't be caring about our test subjects?" Gamo asked back in the same calm tone.

Before Gaia could reply, however, the noise of something hitting the table called the attention of everyone in the room. "Stop arguing, we've wasted enough time already!" Brown shouted, his hand still curled in a fist, causing all other men to immediately get quiet.

"Now, if you don't mind, we still have a lot of things to go through." He then added, suddenly calm, while glaring at Gaia and Gamo.

* * *

As soon as she was fully awake, Françoise instinctively put her arm over her eyes, to shield them from the lights on the ceiling. So, when she actually opened her eyes and realized that the whole room was still pitch dark, for a moment she felt deeply scared. She immediately turned her enhancements on to make sure they weren't damaged, and realizing that it wasn't the case she let out a sigh of relief.

She then stood up from the bed and reached the door, pressed the same button she had used the night before and waited. A few seconds later the window opened, illuminating the room as neon lights poured in from outside. That finally reassured Françoise that there was nothing wrong with her eyes.

"What's the problem?" The guard asked.

"What time is it?" She enquired.

"What?"

"Is it still night? The lights are off--"

"No, it's five in the afternoon. We've been given the order to let you sleep. A minute." The man cut her off before closing the window.

A couple of minutes later the neon lights inside the room were turned on. Some time to get used to it, and Françoise turned towards the bathroom. Before she could reach it, however, the window on the door had opened again.

"Here you are." The same guard said before moving back and pushing a tray through the opening.

"Yes, one moment..." Walking slowly, Françoise reached the door and took the tray.

"Today you have the rest of the day free, by the way." The guard said as he moved back.

"Oh..." She mumbled in response before nodding silently. After that the guard closed the window in the door, leaving her alone in the room, again.

Françoise stood still for a few moments, to finish fully processing the words she had heard, before turning around and walk towards the small table next to her bed. She put the tray on it, then let herself fall down on the chair next to table, as if she was already feeling tired - which wasn't too far away from the truth, since hearing those words had drained her of all energy she had.

Having a free day meant that she would have been confined there until tomorrow, doing nothing at all. On one hand that meant no training, no battlefields, no operations and no maintenance, which was good; on the other, she was going to be shut into that empty room on her own for the rest of the day, the only people she would have been able to see would have been the guards that brought her lunch and dinner, and only for the time they would have needed to give her her meals. The only positive thing she could think of was that, being already late afternoon, her day wouldn't have lasted as long.

She hated that room. She had grown to hate it, that and the fact that her powers didn't work at all in there. Initially not being able to use her enhancements didn't feel so bad, not picking up every single noise and image in a fifty miles radius made her feel better, and allowed her to relax. But now she realized that, closed in there, she had no idea what was going on around her. She could still perceive the small noises inside her room, however, and at times, if the noise was too loud or sudden, it almost felt like an echo assaulting her.

She let out a sigh, and her chest felt so tight it was almost painful. She then stood up and went to the bathroom, more out of habit than because she actually needed to.

Once in she carried out her usual routine - showering, brushing her teeth, brushing her hair and putting her hairband on - like she usually did, slowly and without much ceremony. As it happened at times, she realized she was feeling better afterwards. Not calm, or even good, but at least her head was clearer: there were a couple of things she could have done to pass the time, now that she thought of it.

When she was done she got back to the main room, sat at the table and, taking advantage of her newly found calm, ate her late breakfast slowly and taking her time - the one upside to having a free day, she jokingly thought. She ate the orange and drank the coffee, but left the slices of bread, butter and marmalade she had been given, feeling full enough like that.

While eating she had kept on looking at the two books sitting on the other corner of the table, then reached out and picked up the one at the top and pulled it towards herself: those two tomes had been there for weeks, ever since she had first been brought to that room, and she hadn't touched them since.

She had already checked them a couple of times before: the first was some ridiculously sappy romance novel, the kind that she and her friends used to enjoy and pass around up until a few years ago, but that now she had completely grown out of. The second was some science fiction story she really didn't care for. Aside from her not being interested in them, the books had another thing in common: they were both in English.

She didn't know who had put them there, if it was some sort of experiment the doctors were carrying out, to see what her interests were, or if they belonged to whoever had been in that room before her. Or maybe it was something completely different she couldn't think of. She had only given them a quick look through, concluded they weren't her thing and never thought about them until that moment.

Now, however, she was glad she had those two there with her: when she had finished her breakfast she pushed the tray aside, turned to a side and blew on the cover of the science fiction novel, to clean some of the dust that had piled up on it. She made herself comfortable on the chair and opened it at the first page, then started to skim through the words printed on the page: she could remember the first time she had read through it, and had found a few words she didn't know. She searched for them again, to see if she was able to understand them now. As she looked for those, she found a few more words and phrases she didn't get, and after trying to understand their meaning from the context, took a mental note of them.

She wasn't sure whether she would have been able to use her English any time soon, or even again, but she hoped it would have been the case, and that thought put her in a good mood.

* * *

While taking off his clothes Jet gave a look around the infirmary, and immediately regretted having done so: the room was as uninviting as usual, with its heavy machinery, instruments and various metallic scraps sitting too close to the medical equipment. The only positive thing he could think of was that he had never actually seen any of the doctors ever using any of those instruments, neither the medical nor the mechanical ones. He had often wondered if maybe the only reason why they kept all that stuff there was because the people there found it fitting. Or even fun, in their twisted minds.

Had the situation been different, that place would have felt like the set for some morbid comedy, and he would have shrugged the whole thing off as stupid. But being there, with about a dozen other people around - the doctors standing in front of him, not to mention the guards waiting behind the panels - made him feel even more uncomfortable than he already was.

When he was completely naked he walked in front of the men in white coats and followed their orders, as they told him to turn around, lift his arms, cough, and so forth. Then they told him to lay down the examination table and stand still, then they gave him some anesthetic that knocked him out for a while, so they could disassemble and reassemble his legs to check all the components in them. The same routine, every time.

When he finally woke up, he sat up on the bed and saw that all the men in white had left the room, except for two familiar faces - Brown and Gilmore. The two were sitting next to each other, right in front of the table he was on, taking notes and exchanging some words under their breath. Jet ignored them and stood still, only moving his legs and feet every once in a while to see if they responded properly, and waited for further orders.

"Have you noticed any problem since last time we met, 002?" Brown then loudly asked.

"Er... n-no." He replied with a stutter. It was rare for any of the doctors to ask him questions directly, so he couldn't help being surprised.

"So, your legs aren't bothering you anymore while you sleep?" Gilmore inquired as well.

He shook his head. "Not since your last full revision. I've even started to sleep without needing pills, the pain is gone completely."

Brown widened his eyes. "No problem at all? That's surprising. Stand up and turn around."

Jet got off the bed and complied. He stood still, only shivering a bit and letting out a gasp when he felt a sting on his calf.

"And the sensitivity of the nervous seems to have completely returned as well. That's impressively fast!" The man said. Jet couldn't see his face, but the excitement in his voice was very difficult to miss. Too bad he couldn't turn around and see him until he received the order to do so, he was curious to see that man with an expression other than deadpan on his face. That would have been a first.

"Like I said, haven't had a problem since the last revision."

"I see... turn back around." Gilmore ordered calmly.

"Yes." Jet replied, then complied. He was greeted by the sight of the two men back at their seats once again. He stood still while the other two looked at their papers and took notes, a question running through his head.

"There's a thing I'd like to ask, if I can..." Jet eventually said when the two men looked up from their documents.

"What is it?" Brown casually asked back.

"Why did you build us like this? Feeling pain, I mean." He asked. "In simple words, if possible."

Brown let out a sigh, then looked deep in thought for a few moments. "In layman's terms, it's because you have a brain. To react, your brain must receive impulses from the nerves. And among the various things nerves pick up and your brain elaborates, there's pain." He explained.

Jet finished hearing the explanation, then stared at his arm and hand. "I see... but still, not feeling pain would make us more efficient--"

"We can't just decide what your nervous system can and can't perceive, young man." Brown said, firmly.

Jet nodded. "Okay, I get it for the rest of my body, but... after everything you did to my legs, why did you put fakes nerves in it? That's just pointless, and stupid!"

Brown stared at him, the usual deadpan expression on his face. After some time, he said: "Try to imagine for a moment, 002, living without having any tactile or physical sensation of what's around you. You'd be losing one of your five senses. You'd be still able to function, but you'd be partially cut out from the external world. To give you an approximation of that, imagine living your life wearing a burlap sack that covers your whole body, with only one hole for your head and nothing else."

"Indeed. And besides that, not realizing there's something wrong with your body would give you the idea you're fine, and you'd just keep on fighting until your body is collapsed beyond repair." Gilmore said, pointedly. "You'd die, all of a sudden, without even realizing what's going on, or why."

At that explanation, Jet couldn't help standing in stunned silence: it was a legitimately scary image, the one that the men had managed to put in his head. "I understand now." He eventually said.

"I hope so." Gilmore said, sounding slightly bothered. The two looked at each other in silence for a while, until the doctor started to talk: "Anyway, back to the main reason why we're here: is there any other physical issue you have to report?"

"No." Jet shook his head. "I've been feeling well, not even a cold or anything like that."

"Good. In that case, we're done. You can put your clothes back on." Brown said, standing up from his chair.

"Thank you." He replied while picking up his underwear from the pile of clothing he had put on a nearby chair.

"If you start having any physical problem, let us know as soon as it happens." The doctor told Jet, without even looking at him.

"Of course." Jet said while slipping in his underwear.

Brown then turned his head towards Gilmore and said: "I'll be in my office, doctor." After that he walked past the screen that was shielding them from the eyes of the guards, and headed for the door.

Even after Brown had left the room, Gilmore kept on sitting at his place without saying a word, waiting. After slipping back into his pants, Jet had sat down on the chair to get his boots back on, all the while trying to ignore the other man's sight on him. He was tempted to say something, and wondered whether he should have asked a more defiant, juvenile question, or if it was worth keeping up appearances and be polite. But before he could decide, Gilmore had stood up and taken a few steps until he was standing next to Jet, close enough to make physical contact with him if he had wanted to. When he realized it, the younger man couldn't help feeling tense, and froze still.

"So, you think you should be more 'efficient'?" Gilmore said in a voice that, while low, sounded deeply unsettling.

Jet gasped, in equal measure scared and surprised: Gilmore had always creeped him out, and having that man so suddenly close to himself, almost at eye level, was even more upsetting than he could have had imagined.

"So?" Gilmore insisted.

After putting on the best deadpan expression he could, Jet replied: "That's what you want from us, don't you? Personally, I couldn't care less." He had tried to feign as much coolness as he could in that moment, but he was sure he hadn't been too convincing.

"I see." The other then replied in the same dry voice. He moved away from him Jet and walked towards the other side of the room as well.

Jet stood still until he heard the noise of the door opening and closing. He stood up from the chair, asked to himself what the hell was that about, then finished putting his clothes on as quickly as he could. When he was in his full uniform again he walked past the panel and showed himself, then waited with his arms up for the guards to come pick him up. They pointed their weapons at him and he put both hands forward, so that they could handcuff him. He then let the guards take him out of the room, and led him through the corridors.

* * *

She had been studying that room for a while, ever since she had been brought there: the place wasn't too big or nice, literally just four walls and a ceiling painted white, but compared to the room she had been living in it almost felt like a mansion. Maybe it was just the fact it was bigger, since the only things inside it were a couple beds - a bunk bed on one side and a single on the other - and a table with three chairs in the middle.

To her right there was also a door behind which was a very small bathroom - she had checked what was behind the door with her enhanced sight, but hadn't gone there herself yet, not knowing if she was allowed to look around. She had done a quick scan of the whole room, and unsurprisingly found out she couldn't see or hear anything past its walls. She was however surprised to find out that while there were about half a dozen microphones hidden throughout the room, none of them worked.

Was there some emergency? No, the way she had been taken there from her room didn't suggest anything like that - she hadn't been asked to walk quickly or run, and they hadn't handcuffed or blindfolded her. The whole thing however felt like it had been carried out hurriedly and all of a sudden, since she hadn't been allowed to take anything from her room, not even her pajama or toothbrush; the guards had just ordered her to put on her uniform and follow them. She hadn't even been allowed to bring the books with her, which was what bothered her the most. What was she supposed to do while staying there, look at the walls for the rest of the day?

Then again, that could have meant that it was really only a temporary thing, and that she would have been brought back to her room before dinner. Why bring her somewhere else when she already had her own room, after all? But if that was the case, did it really mean there was some kind of emergency going on? And what could that have been?

Suddenly, the door unlocked and opened again, snapping her out of her thoughts. She turned her head towards it, and saw two guards pushing inside that tall guy from the day before. She was about to ask them what was going on, but before she could one of the guards spoke.

"You'll stay here for the night." The man said as he took the handcuffs off of Jet's wrists.

"What?" He protested. "In the same room with her?"

"Yes, I already have my own room!" Françoise added, loudly.

"Me too!"

"We don't decide the arrangements, we were just told to bring you here." The other guard replied.

"Then who should we ask to?" She asked.

"None of our business." The same man replied. "Now behave. You'll be brought dinner in half an hour." He added. Then, while keeping their weapons pointed towards the two cyborgs, they walked out of the room and locked the door behind themselves.

When the two men had finally left the room, Jet looked like he had just snapped out of a stupor. Walking towards the single bed he muttered something under his breath, then kicked one of its legs. He stepped closer and noticed something on the pillow; out of curiosity he picked it up and unfolded it, discovering it was a plain white pajama. He carelessly flung it over the head of the bed, and threw himself on the mattress.

Some moments later Françoise had recovered from the surprise as well, and had gone to sit at the table. "Is this some sort of test?" She wondered out loud.

"Whatever it's supposed to be, they should have at least told us earlier." Jet complained, crossing his arms behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. "That's what pisses me off the most."

"That's what makes you... what?" She asked, confused.

Jet turned his head towards her. "That's what makes me angry, I meant to say. Not having to be in the same room with you, just the fact they didn't tell us before." He explained. "But I can imagine how annoying and uncomfortable the idea of sharing a room with a guy must be for you."

"Uhm... a bit." She replied. "I hope it's only for tonight."

"Same for me." He answered. "When they're going to bring us dinner, they're gonna hear me. I don't care if it's not their fault, I wanna make a ruckus and show 'em. Worst thing that can happen, they'll throw me in the cell for one night or two." He said, angrily. As he was done speaking he gave a glance at Françoise, and after seeing her scared expression a concerned look appeared on his face. "And then you'll be able to sleep here on your own. There, I found a solution to our problem, heh." He then added, affecting a more lighthearted, joking tone. In response she let out a small, forced laugh. They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then averted their sights.

After some time in complete silence, Françoise stood up and decided to have a more careful look around the room. First she reached the bunk bed, and noticed how on the other pillows were other two folded pajamas. Then she went to check inside the bathroom, and found three sets of brand new toothbrushes and clean towels on a table next to the sink.

After checking the shower corner, to see if there was anything interesting around there too, she went back to the main room. She walked back to her chair and, looking at Jet, started talking: "I looked around... and there are three beds, three pajamas and three toothbrushes. Do you think they're going to bring the other man here as well?"

Jet turned his head in her direction. "Him, too?"

"Yes." She replied. "004, that's what the voice called him, right?"

"Yeah, 004." He answered, then turned his head to look at the ceiling again.

"I hope so, that would mean he's better now." Françoise commented. Then, after waiting for a reply that didn't arrive, she asked: "By the way, who are you?"

"I go by 002 right now, but I don't care for that." He replied, still looking up.

"And I'm 003." She said, somewhat meekly. "How long have you been in here?"

"What's this, an interrogation?" He asked back, angrily glaring at her.

Hearing his tone, Françoise instinctively recoiled, gasping. She was about to apologize for having been so nosy, but before she could even open her mouth Jet had preceded her.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't meant to be rude, it's just..." He said before standing up from the bed and going to sit down at the table, next to her. "It's been way too long, that's all." He answered in an annoyed tone while looking straight into her face.

"Where are you from?" She then decided to ask, to change argument.

"You really like to do conversation, don't you?" Jet instead replied, in a sarcastic tone. "Anyway, to answer your question I'm a New Yorker, born and bred." He then added.

Much to her relief, his tone now was more relaxed now, and was giving her a placid smile. However, what he had said had left her slightly confused: "Born and... what?"

"Oh... it means I was born and grew up in New York." He answered, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I'll try not to speak too hard from now on."

"No, don't worry about it. Speak the way you prefer, and I'll tell you if I don't understand something. That way I can learn new words." She replied with a wide smile. "So, you're American."

In response, Jet smiled back and nodded. "And you? You're not from the same place as that other guy, are you?"

Françoise shook her head: "No, I'm French, and he must be either German or Austrian. Or Swiss, maybe."

"French? From Europe, you mean?"

She nodded.

"Really? You know, I thought you were Canadian, since you also speak English--" Before Jet could finish that sentence, the noise of the door unlocking interrupted him once again.

The door opened and a few figures appeared in front of them. The armed guards were expected, but doctor Gilmore wasn't - and definitely not while pushing a wheelchair that carried that other man, 004. And it was the sight of him that got both of them gasping in surprise and fear, as the man was missing his right hand and leg.

"W-What the..." Jet stammered.

"004..." Françoise said, her voice muffled by her hands covering her mouth, open wide in surprise up until a few moments before.

"Tonight you three will be sharing this room." Gilmore said in a deadpan tone.

"I already told you, I'd rather stay in the laboratory." Albert replied, giving Gilmore a glare from behind his shoulder.

Without saying a word, the doctor pushed the wheelchair next to the table, while the guards pointed their weapons on Jet and Françoise. Gilmore then turned around, and walked back towards the doorstep.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Albert protested loudly.

"Quiet!" One of the guards intimated.

"If there's any problem with any of you, the guards will come inside and take care of the issue. If that were to happen, be cooperative and don't obstacle them. If you disobey, you'll be all punished accordingly." Gilmore explained. "Have a good night." He added, then walked out of the room. The door was closed again, and as soon as they heard the first turn of the lock both Jet and Françoise had rushed towards Albert.

"004! What happened to you?" She asked, holding his left hand between hers.

"They just kept my leg and my hand for repairs, that's it." He said with so much calm and nonchalance, it almost scared her. "And please don't worry like that, taking that damn leg off was the nicest thing they could do to me. I'm feeling much better now."

"Yes, but..." Jet mumbled, pointing at Albert's right arm while he slowly stepped closer to the wheelchair.

Albert chortled, then raised his head and looked into Jet's face: "Remember when you told me not to hit the ground, or I would have broken my hand too? You were right, that's exactly what happened."

Jet didn't say a thing, just looked at the other in silence.

"The hand wasn't hurting, they just took it off to repair it. They said I'll have it back tomorrow." Albert explained, looking at his arm.

"And your leg? How long will that take?"

Albert shrugged. "Who knows. They can keep it, for all I care."

Jet looked like he was about to make some comment, but then turned around and went to sit on the nearest chair. On her part, Françoise was staring at the empty right leg of the pajama pants he was wearing, tied in a knot just a few centimeters below his hips and folded over on the chair's seat.

"Don't be like that. I'm feeling alright, and I'll have everything reattached soon. I had even asked those idiots not to take me here. They should have just given me a crutch and brought me to my room, I'm more than able to do things on my own."

 _'Please don't be so stubborn, 004. Right now you need some help, and it's much better for you to get it from other cyborgs, rather than the people in the lab.'_ Hearing that voice resound again, Françoise stood up on her feet in surprise, while Jet looked around the room.

"It's you, again." Albert commented, sounding annoyed.

Jet jumped up from his chair. "Who the hell are you?" He shouted.

_'I'm 001, sorry for not introducing myself earlier.'_

"You're one of us..." Françoise mumbled after a moment of surprise. "Where are you?"

_'In another room of this facility, but I couldn't exactly tell you which. Usually I'm being looked after by Gilmore, Brown and other doctors.'_

"Are you hurt? Are they experimenting on you?" She kept on inquiring.

_'No, neither of those for the moment, thankfully. Right now they're just taking care of me, you'll understand better when you'll see me.'_

"And when are we finally going to have a look at you?" Jet asked.

_'Soon, I hope. I really look forward to seeing you in person as well.'_

"Nice, very nice. Anyway, _I_ can take care of myself, thank you very much." Albert said, irritation in his voice.

 _'I don't doubt that, but I think it would do you good to be in the company of people who can help you, rather than being locked in the laboratory or staying on your own.'_ 001 explained.

"So, it's because of you that we're all here now?" He then asked, sneeringly.

_'I merely suggested Gilmore that it would have been a good idea, and encouraged him in that direction.'_

"So, yes, you did. It was your idea." Jet replied, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Does that mean that he's listening or watching us right now?" Albert asked.

"There are some microphones inside this room, I can sense them." Françoise said. "But they're switched off."

_'They won't be recoding anything for tonight, I took the liberty of fiddling with them. Gilmore will explain to the other doctors that it's a malfunction caused by a problem in the electrical system. So don't worry about a thing, and talk about whatever you want for as much as you want.'_

Albert let out a sarcastic laugh. "Really, you can get away with something like that? Sounds like you're very close to the people that count in here."

_'I'm only close to Gilmore, and not as much as I'd like, sadly. But he seems to be receptive of my suggestions and requests, and we can use that to our advantage.'_

"Our?"

_'I want to get out of this place, too. And if I need to get closer to them, or even collaborate with them, to make it happen, I'm going to do it.'_

"Really? Then how are we supposed to trust you?" Jet asked.

"Yes." Albert commented. "Especially considering how you don't seem to have any problem deciding for us..."

 _'I understand why you wouldn't trust me, definitely not right now. But I promise that I will not betray you, and my actions from now on will prove it, you'll see.'_ 001 said. _'I know what you've been through, and I'm not going to leave you behind.'_

He finished explaining, and silence fell in the room. Françoise felt confused and conflicted about that explanation, but she couldn't deny that overall it did make sense. The other two, however, didn't seem as convinced as she was, and looked at each other with a wary look on their faces.

_'As for you, 004, I realize that being seen like this must be embarrassing, and that you'd--'_

"That's not it!" Albert interrupted him. "I don't need help! I don't care what you think, I'm perfectly able to do things on my own!" He shouted so loudly he had to take a moment to catch his breath, so winded he was.

Everyone else was left speechless by that outburst. Jet and Françoise exchanged a glance, then looked at Albert: it was pretty obvious that 001's words had touched a nerve. They obviously couldn't blame him, it would have been difficult for everyone to show themselves like that, even if it was just a temporary thing. She had gotten the feeling that the whole arrangement had been made so they could look after him, even before 001 had spelled that out for them. But if they were there to cheer him up they should have been careful about it, and try not to act like that was what they were doing.

"Don't strain yourself like this, 004." Françoise eventually said, walking closer to him and putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, she's right." Jet nodded while casually moving one of the chairs away from the table, to make room for Albert's wheelchair.

_'Try to keep calm and endure it, just for tonight. And besides, this isn't just about you, 004. 002 and 003 were concerned about how you were doing.'_

"Really?" Albert sneered.

"Yes." Françoise commented. "We were both worried about you. Seeing you doing well is a relief."

"By the way, thank you for your help yesterday. If it hadn't been for you, we'd be dead right now." Jet replied, walking behind the wheelchair to push it towards the table. Before walking back in front of Albert.

Albert looked at Jet in silence, and when Françoise went to sit next to him he turned his head towards her and gave a careful glance at her as well. "You're welcome, even if getting that helicopter was just part of my training." He then said, the tone of his voice somewhat cheerful. "If anything, I should be the one thanking you. I felt like I was dying."

"It was nothing." Jet said. "I had no clue what I was doing, and I just tried whatever came to my mind."

"It still helped, a lot." Albert answered. Then, after some silence, he put on a less serious voice and added: "However, _mademoiselle_ , at the cost of sounding like an ingrate, there's one thing I have to point out. It's _beruhige dich, bitte_. Not _beruhingen du_."

Françoise widened her eyes in surprise, blushing slightly at the same time. "S-Sorry..."

He nodded. "Thanks for your attempt, it was nice. Or, should I say, _grand merci_."

She chuckled: " _Entschuldigen mir, ich habe nicht-- nur! Ich habe nur ein paar Lektionen_ \--"

Jet let out a sigh. "Could you please switch to English, or at least explain me what you're talking about?"

Albert and Françoise turned their heads towards him, surprised. "You only understand English?" He asked.

"Yeah." Jet nodded. "Well, I know a little Italian and Spanish, but that's it."

"Where are you from?" Albert asked.

"I'm American, from New York."

"And I'm from Paris." Françoise added. "Right before you arrived we were wondering about you and which country you're from, 004."

"I'm German." Albert explained.

"A French and a German, huh..." Jet commented. "You speak English very well, congratulations."

"Thank you." Françoise replied, while Albert gave him a half smile.

"And how long have you been learning it?" Jet asked.

"A while." Albert answered. "Where I was born, grew up and lived, learning foreign languages was frowned upon, and I was kind of a rebellious kid. Well, as much as I could be... anyway, my family used to live next to a guy who used to be an English teacher, and had this small collection of English books. I was fascinated by his collection, and by how attached he was to it, so I asked him to teach me the language." As he went on speaking, a more serene expression spread on his face. "It was fun."

"So you've been studying since you were a kid."

"No, not really. I haven't really spoken or read English since then, but after they brought me here I had to use it often, to understand what those people are saying, so I caught up quickly." When he finished speaking he turned his head towards Françoise, to signal it was her turn.

"In my case, it was just a few years: before they brought me here I studied electronic engineering, and in that field English is considered the language of the future. That, and a lot of books and magazines on the argument are only in English, so I decided to start studying it." She explained.

"Electronic engineering? That's... an interesting choice." Jet commented, looking surprised.

"And what brought you to study German?" Albert asked.

"I only took a couple lessons because I had been thinking of going on a trip to Austria some years ago. I'm not as good at it as I am in English, and even that isn't really spectacular."

"Really? I wish I spoke your language the way you speak mine..." Jet pointed out.

"Well... I suppose that the stuff they put into my brain must have helped, too..." Françoise said, bringing her hands to her temples.

_'No, that has nothing to do with it. More simply, it's just that you've been surrounded by people speaking it, and have heard it almost every day since you came here. It's the common language here.'_

"Yes..." Albert commented. "After all, the names they gave us are numbers in English. I suppose that they consider it the language of the future, too."

"Well, I know some people who speak French here. Not the doctors, however." She explained.

"Good for you, you can make some conversation." Albert replied, smirking.

"Anyway, how about you, 001? How many languages do you speak?" Françoise asked.

_'None yet.'_

Everyone's expression turned into one of confusion. "You're joking..." Jet mumbled, while Albert and Françoise exchanged a confused look.

_'Let's just say that the modifications I received made me able to communicate telepatically, so I don't really need to 'speak' a single word.'_

Jet let out a loud groan and rolled his eyes. "We had to be stuck with a bad comedian, ugh..." Albert's face expressed the same feeling, just in a much less theatrical manner, while Françoise looked embarrassed, almost as if it was her the one being looked down upon.

 _'Just trying to lighten up the mood, that's it._ 001 said. _'But I wasn't joking, either.'_

"Sure, sure..." Jet said.

_'But if what I've heard from the professors is true, this will stop being a problem at all in the future, since they're working on a translator to install in the brains of us cyborgs to avoid any kind of linguistic issues.'_

"That would have been something actually useful to give us from the start..." Albert said, annoyedly.

"Really." Jet commented too, leaning against the back of his chair.

 _'Gilmore is here now. Sorry, I have to leave you.'_ 001 then hastily added.

"Really? Okay..." Jet replied.

"Be careful." Françoise answered.

_'I'll be back with you as soon as it's possible. Have a pleasant evening and a good night.'_

"We'll try. Thank you for everything." Albert answered. Then the room plunged in complete silence for a while, until he took the word again: "So, you're 002 and 003, right?" He asked, looking at one and then at the other.

"I'm 003, and he's 002." Françoise explained.

"I see, and since you already seem to know how to call me, I won't repeat myself. Glad to meet you two." He replied, smiling.

"The pleasure is ours." She said, returning the smile.

Albert leaned against the back of the wheelchair and went on: "I feel bad for having made you worry about me. But as you can see, I'm fine now. Mostly." He chuckled. "And don't listen to 001 or anyone else, despite my state I can deal with things just fine. I had asked them to give me a crutch, but they insisted on putting me on this thing, and to twist the knife they brought me here for you to see."

After some hesitation, Françoise started speaking: "Well, not to treat you like a child... but I think they didn't do it just to spite you. They did the right thing giving you that to sit down on, for today."

Albert turned his head towards her. "What do you mean?" Despite his best attempts to sound neutral, there was a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"You shouldn't get too tired after what happened yesterday and today."

"And why? It's not like I have any wound that can open, or risk bleeding out if I make any effort."

"You should take it easy anyway." She commented. "You might not bleed or break something, but if you get too tired it will take a long time for you for recover--"

"There's not a single part of me that needs recovering." Albert interrupted her.

"Stop being so dramatic, will you?" Jet replied, glaring at the other man.

Albert turned his head towards him. "Dramatic, huh?" Then, looking straight into the other's eyes, he hooked his right sleeve with his the fingers of his left hand and, with an almost theatrical gesture, slightly pulled his sleeve up. "Want to see how dramatic I'm being?"

Jet chuckled. "If there wasn't a lady here I'd tell you to show me yours, so I can show you mine." He replied, his tone a mix of defiant and sarcastic.

Albert let out a small laugh. "Quite a rude thing to say, _in front of a lady_ , even if she doesn't understand you completely. But it's not a challenge I'm going to lose, believe me. Sorry in advance, 003." He said the last few words in an almost chivalrous tone, then rolled his sleeve up to the elbow to show them his forearm, a thick metallic tube covered in wires connected to other metallic parts and other wires. "Then again, this is my shooting arm, so you probably were expecting it. Can you imagine what kind of body an arm like this is attached to?"

As he spoke he pulled his sleeve up even further, up to and over his shoulder, showing the rest of his arm: it looked more or less the same, just thicker and with even more tubes and metal strips, and attached to a shoulder that didn't look much different from the rest of the arm. He bent and distended the arm a couple of times, slowly, to show them how the various wires, tubes and joints moved.

 _His whole body is mechanical_ , 001's words suddenly echoed in Françoise's head. She stood in complete silence, her eyes wide open.

"Told you so." Albert then said, moving his hand away to pull the sleeve back down to cover his right arm. "So, 002? Still want to compare?"

"... no. I'd just embarass myself, if I tried." Jet replied, after a couple of failed attempts to force his voice out of his mouth, in the closest to a defiant tone he could affect in that moment. He then let out a sigh and, after straightening his face and his voice, said: "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, before."

"Nevermind." Albert replied, leaning back against the chair. The strange glee that had been in his voice up until that point vanished completely, all of a sudden, and the expression on his face turned gloom.

"So... everything from your neck down is mechanical?" Françoise asked.

"Everything except my brain is mechanical, I've been told. And as much as I don't trust them, I can believe that."

"You've been told?" Jet repeated. "You don't even know how much of your original body they left intact?"

"No. But from what I can remember I don't think there was much for them to work with." He put his left hand on his neck, and opened the first two buttons of his pajama shirt to show them the point where the synthetic skin on his neck ended and the metal started. Then, with his finger, he traced a line from under his jaw to where his Adam's apple should have been. "They did a pretty good job putting my face back together like it used to be, more or less."

"And how long have you been like that?" Jet asked after some hesitation, the expression on his face showing he was still clearly in shock.

"I don't know, I've been asleep for a while. I can tell you I have started training a few weeks ago, about a couple months. And that today was my first mission on the field."

"Same for me." Françoise commented.

"I see." Jet commented after some silence while looking down at the table.

Then, all of a sudden, the noise of a lock opening got their attention. They all turned towards the door, and the small window in the middle of it swung open. "Dinner." A voice said, then a couple hands quickly and carelessly pushed in a tray with a bowl, a glass and some cutlery on it.

"It's already that late?" Jet couldn't help commenting, standing up from his chair.

Françoise stood up as well, and went to retrieve one of the trays. As she walked back with a tray in one hand and a bottle in the other, Jet had already brought one of them to the table. When the guards had finished passing them everything they unceremoniously closed the window in the door, and the two sat at the table.

"Soup, what are the odds." Jet commented as he checked the bowl.

"I think this one is yours." Françoise replied, pointing at the small number two etched on the board of the bowl she had in front of herself.

Jet looked at it, then checked the one in front of himself until he found a small four on it. "Really? It's just the usual watered down soup, what's the difference if we change dishes?"

"I suppose they put different things in them." Françoise said.

"You give them too much credit." Jet replied while passing his bowl to Albert.

"Not true. Her ration looks thicker than ours, and there are more vegetables in it." The other man answered after examining the dish in front of himself.

"Do you want some of mine?" Françoise asked.

"No, thank you." Albert said, pushing his bowl towards her.

"If you want, go ahead. I'm not eating it all." She replied.

"I don't think I will finish mine, either." He answered, coldly, before picking up the spoon with his left hand and starting to slowly eat his soup. His movements in taking the food were slightly awkward and shaky, but neither Françoise nor Jet made a comment about it. They both turned their sight away, and concentrated on eating their own dinner.

Time passed in almost complete silence, except for the noise of the spoons ticking against the bowls. They all finished what was in their dishes, Françoise included - which surprised her, since she really didn't feel that hungry. It must have been the fact it was soup that had tricked her. As soon as Jet and Albert had finished their dinner as well, almost as if on cue, their attention was called by the noise of the door being repeatedly hit.

"Dishes, trays and glasses! Quick!" A voice commanded after the small window opened. "And don't try anything funny!"

"Y-Yes..." Françoise replied as she stood up from her chair. She took one of the trays and brought it to the door, where a pair of hands quickly pulled it away from her grasp. Jet did the same, looking decidedly annoyed.

"Yes, it's everything. Well done." The guard replied when they had brought all the dishes and trays. "The light will be turned off in an hour, finish anything you have to do in that time." The voice then added before quickly and noisily closing the window.

"Wow, this evening couldn't get any better..." Jet commented sarcastically, crossing his arms behind his head.

"So, I guess we should start getting ready to go to sleep." Françoise said with a sigh.

"It's not like we have much choice about what we can do, after all." Albert commented. "You can start going to the bathroom if you want, I will go last."

"Okay then, if you don't mind I'll go first." Jet said while looking at Françoise.

She shook her head. "No problem, go ahead."

"Thank you." He replied, picking up the pajama he had previously put on the head of the bed and carelessly throwing it on his arm before heading for the bathroom.

After Jet had closed the door behind himself, Françoise turned her attention to Albert.

Noticing that he was being stared at, he looked up. "Yes?" He asked.

"Can I ask you one thing?"

"One thing?"

"How does it feel, like that? I-I mean..."

"Like this, huh... nice way of putting it." He let out a small laugh. Then, straightening his face, he went on: "It's not fun. I can still taste food, touch things, feel pain... And they did a nice job trying to make me look like a human, more or less. But I hate it."

Françoise hesitated a moment, then spoke: "Sorry, can I..." She said, reaching out with her hand towards his face.

Albert looked surprised, but then nodded. "Yes, don't worry."

Moving her hand slowly she touched his cheek, only to then instinctively pull her hand back at the cold sensation. Seeing her reaction, Albert let out a low chuckle.

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean t-to..." She immediately tried to apologize, only to stutter and mumble awkwardly, unable to find the right words.

"Don't worry, it's a normal reaction." He replied, touching his cheek with his left hand. "I did the same the first time I checked my face. It took me days to get used to it."

After gathering her courage she slowly reached out again, and touched his face. She caressed his cheek, growing more and more surprised and upset as she felt something strange, like a series of metal slats and wires under the man's skin.

"Don't think too hard about what's under it." Albert said. "I've seen it, it's not nice."

That observation took Françoise by surprise, almost as if he had read her mind. She was about to ask him how did he know, but then realized that it wouldn't have been too difficult to guess what she was thinking. The expression on her face must have been very eloquent on its own. This time, however, she managed not to move her hand away.

"I would have never imagined it, you look so natural when you change expression." She mumbled.

In response, he smiled. As he did so, she could feel the slats and other parts moving under her hand. "I only look natural. Under it, it's only machinery." He said, his voice getting thick as he pronounced the last few words.

Françoise moved back from him, embarrassed. After some hesitation she eventually found the courage, looked into his face and spoke: "004, even if you don't care for what you might look like on the outside, I think it's fine, and--" She interrupted herself, realizing how badly she had phrased it and seeing how the expression on the man's face had turned angry.

Hearing her suddenly falling silent, Albert looked up at her, all the rage in him seemingly disappeared. He attempted a smile, only to settle for a serious, deadpan expression. "Thank you for saying that." He said, unconvincingly.

"004, I really believe--"

"I actually, really appreciate what you're saying, believe me." He interrupted her, using the same tone from before. "But what you or anyone else thinks of me doesn't change how things are." He lifted his right arm. "Look at this, and think that tomorrow I'll have my hand, and probably also my leg back, and they'll work as nice as new. And I've been through it a few times now. This is not normal."

Without saying a word Françoise took a chair and sat down right in front of him. She reached out to try and put a hand on his shoulder, but before she could Albert started talking: "Please forget about this. That outburst from before, and now... I'm just nervous." He said, hanging his head, while he slowly buttoned up the shirt of his pajama to cover the metallic parts of his chest and neck.

"You don't have to apologize about that. I understand how you're feeling, you have all reasons to be angry and frustrated." She calmly replied. "And if you want to vent out or talk--"

"No, thank you." He interrupted her, his voice cold.

For a moment Françoise would have wanted to add something and reassure him, but eventually decided not to. He didn't want to talk about it, it made sense. Silently, she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, then smiled. Albert looked back at her, but didn't say a word in return.

Before either of them could say another word the door of the bathroom opened, and Jet walked out wearing his pajama, his uniform draped on his arm. "I'm done." He declared.

"Good. It's my turn now, I guess." Françoise said, standing up from the chair.

"Did I interrupt something?" Jet asked, walking towards the table.

"No, just doing some conversation." Albert replied, his tone completely different from the one he had used up until that moment.

"Yes. We weren't talking about you, don't worry." She added, smiling, before turning around reaching her bed to take one of the folded pajamas from one of the bunk beds.

"I guess I'll have to take your word for it." Jet replied, sarcastically, while putting his old clothes on one of the free chairs.

After checking she had taken everything, Françoise walked towards the bathroom, then locked the door behind herself. The first thing she did when she was inside was to quickly get out of her uniform, and prepare herself to take a shower. She turned towards the mirror hanging over the sink to take her hairband off, and had a glimpse of her head and shoulders. After a moment of hesitation she moved her hand on her chest, between her shoulder and her breast, to touch a small mole on her skin.

With the tip of her finger she felt the minuscule familiar bump and caressed it. As she felt the touch of her hand on her skin, she thought of 004. She took a step backwards, to get a better look in the mirror of her chest as well, until she was with her back against the wall. She then looked down at herself, and felt strangely relieved when she saw that in front of her eyes was still her old body. Her eyes traveled down to her belly, pubes and legs, and they were the same, the only difference she could notice was that she was much slimmer than before - especially her legs, due to having lost weight and not having done much exercise since she had been brought there.

She tried to get on her tiptoes, just to see how much her time there had managed to spoil her training, and unsurprisingly she found out she couldn't stand up for more than a couple seconds before she started to feel her toes, calves and muscles hurting. She got down on her feet and massaged her legs, slowly. She took a moment and, when she felt better, she took off her hairband and got into the shower.

After that day she really needed a long shower to calm down, but she didn't want to make 004 wait too much. That, and water was ridiculously cold, which ruined whatever pleasure she could have derived from taking a shower; instead, she washed and rinsed herself as quickly as she could.

Once she was done, Françoise hurriedly dried herself with a towel before she could get shivers, wrapped another one around her head and quickly put the pajama on. She then looked at herself, noticing how large and baggy those clothes were on her now, then quickly brushed her teeth, gathered all parts of her uniform and got out of the bathroom.

"Here I am, sorry for making you wait."

"Don't worry about that." Albert said. "Anyway, my turn now." He added while, holding onto the table with his left hand, he pushed himself and the wheelchair back. He then put his foot down on the floor and, pulling himself up while still holding onto the table, managed to stand up.

"Let me help--"

"I can do this myself. You already did enough for me today." Albert said, interrupting Jet. He steadied himself and, jumping on his one foot, reached the wall. Once he was leaning against it, he started moving towards the bathroom in the same manner. Jet and Françoise exchanged a look, but didn't say a word or move a muscle, even if they were both clearly ready to rush to his help in case he stumbled.

Calmly and with an impressive composure, Albert headed into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself without locking it.

"He didn't lock. At least he seems to realize that he might need help." She commented.

Jet nodded, sitting on a chair close to hers. "He's stubborn, but not stupid. That's good."

"Yes." She nodded while rubbing her hair with the towel.

"Anyway, can I ask you something?" Jet then said.

"Of course." Françoise replied, sitting in front of him.

"Where would you prefer to sleep? In which bed, I mean." He explained. "Me and 004 were thinking of leaving the single bed to you, so we guys can stay on one side of the room and you can have your personal space."

"Really? Thank you." She replied. "I'm fine with anything, but since you're offering..."

"I asked 004 if he wanted to take that bed, to be more comfortable for the night, given his state, but he said we should think of you first." Jet explained.

"I see..." Françoise said as she went on drying her hair.

"And another thing." Jet then said calmly. "I tend to talk while I sleep, so if I start rambling and it bothers you, don't feel bad about throwing something at me to make me stop, okay?"

"Oh, okay. And don't worry about it." She added, smiling.

"Thank you." He answered.

They then heard the noise of the door of the bathroom opening, earlier than they would have expected. They turned around and saw Albert taking small jumps, propping himself up against the wall with his left arm. Moving slowly and carefully he reached the bunk bed, and sat down on the bottom one.

"Thank you for your thought and leaving me this bed, 002 and 004. _Danke._ " Françoise said.

" _Bitte sehr._ " Albert replied as he moved around to lay down on the mattress.

"That's 'you're welcome', right?" Jet asked the other man.

"Of course. What did you think I was answering her?" Albert replied while folding his arms under his head. "Anyway, I hope you don't mind I go to sleep first." He then added as he pulled up the sheets and moved himself under them.

"Of course not." Jet replied.

Françoise looked at him and smiled. "Don't worry, and _gute Nacht_."

"Good night from me, too." Jet answered.

"Well, good night and _bonne nuit_ from me, too." Albert said, sounding amused, as he moved around until he was under the sheets. He made himself comfortable and added: "And thank you for everything you did yesterday, again."

"Don't even mention it, you're the one who saved us. Now rest." Jet said, and Albert pulled his covers over his face, to shield himself from the lights still switched on.

When she thought that her hair was dry enough, Françoise left the towel on a chair and walked towards the table, laid her uniform on it and started to fold it carefully. When she was done she looked up, and saw Jet looking at her with the corner of his eye, trying to follow her gestures while folding his own uniform. The final result was something that could have been considered somewhat acceptable, if one was in a forgiving mood.

Giving him a smile, Françoise walked next to Jet. "Look carefully." She said with a whisper while, with slow movements, she took a hold of his outfit, unfolded it and showed him how to properly do it.

"Thank you, but there's no need..." Jet replied, under his breath.

"It's nothing." She replied while finishing her work and handing him his properly folded uniform. "By the way, thanks for everything you did to help me yesterday, too." She then added, smiling widely.

"You don't have to thank me for that, anyone would have done that. But you're welcome." He answered.

As she looked at him putting his uniform away on a chair, Françoise stared at him silently. The way he acted, detached and moody at first, only to then get much more easygoing and friendly, then back to distant again, was difficult for her to keep up with. Not that she couldn't understand why he would behave like that - if he acted like that knowingly, that was.

"Anyway, if you don't need anything else, I'm going to bed too." Jet eventually said, scratching the back of his neck.

She smiled. "No, nothing. Good night to you, I hope you will have a nice sleep."

"I hope, too." He replied, a smile on his face. "Sleep well."

And there he was again. For a moment she would have wanted to tell him something about it, only to decide that right now she was probably going to say something stupid and she didn't want to annoy him too, like she had accidentally done with 004.

"Thank you." She instead replied as she looked at him turning her his back and walking towards the bunk bed. She headed for her bed as well, slipped under the covers and pulled them over her head, waiting for her sleep to come.

As she lay on the mattress, she realized she was strangely relaxed - relatively speaking, at least. Her heart wasn't beating fast and her breathing was normal. She was nervous due of the whole situation, but she wasn't feeling restless like usual. She felt so at peace that, in a matter of a couple of minutes, she was already sound asleep. When the guard arrived to loudly warn them that the lights would have been turned off in a couple of minutes, she didn't even wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grand merci. - Thank you very much.
> 
> Entschuldigen mir, ich habe nicht-- nur! Ich habe nur ein paar Lektionen (genommen) - Excuse me, I have not-- only! I have (taken) only a couple lessons.


	3. Day 3

The lights switched on all of a sudden, and a shouting voice made sure he wasn't going to try and fall asleep again. After recovering from that moment of shock, Albert sat up on the bed, still confused. That had been his morning routine for a while now, but today those screams seemed more ear and mind-piercing than usual.

He tried to cover his ears, only to be met with the feeling of the cold metal and the sharp parts sticking out of his wrist pressed against the side of his face; on the bright side, that little shock fully awoke him. It still took him another moment to remember why he was missing one hand, where he was and, most important, why there were two other people standing next to him in that same room, but he was finally awake and aware.

"'morning." Jet told him after letting out a long yawn.

"Good morning, 004." Françoise greeted him as well.

" _Gute_... good morning, both of you." Albert replied while rubbing his eyes with his left hand.

"How are you feeling right now?" Jet asked.

"I've been better, I've been worse." He answered while pushing and kicking away the sheets.

"Slept well, at least--"

"Stop chit-chatting and get ready, all of you! We're late already, we don't have time to lose!" Gilmore's voice blared through the small window.

All three of them turned their heads in the direction of the door almost at the same time, alerted by the voice, then exchanged a glance.

"You want to go to the bathroom first, 003?" Jet then asked.

She nodded, looking slightly intimidated, then turned around and headed towards the bathroom.

"Stop there!" Gilmore said. "We need to take 004 for a visit, make him go first!"

Françoise stopped in her steps and looked at Albert.

"There's no need, I'm fine." He replied, moving on the mattress to sit on the side of the bed.

"Are you sure?" Gilmore asked.

"Yes. Go on 003, don't worry."

Hearing his response, Françoise started once again to walk towards the bathroom. Before she could reach it, however, Jet stopped her. "W-Wait, your clothes!" He said, picking her folded uniform from the chair and passing it to her.

Françoise turned back towards him. "Thank you." She said with an embarrassed smile while taking a hold of her outfit, then headed to the other room.

As she locked the door behind herself, Albert got off the bed and, holding onto the frame of the top bunk, managed to stand up on his own. Before he could start moving towards the table, Gilmore's voice got their attention once again: "002, help 004."

"I can do this myself." Albert replied.

"Help him get on the chair, 002." Gilmore repeated.

"He said he doesn't--" Jet tried to protest.

"Help him, or we'll get in and do it ourselves!" He shouted.

Jet gave Albert a look, then shrugged and reached him. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and, moving slowly and carefully, accompanied him to the wheelchair. The other man went along, without struggling or saying anything.

"There..." Jet commented as they finally reached the chair, seating Albert down on it.

"Good. Now stay back, we're opening the door and getting inside." Gilmore said. Despite the forewarning, the noise of the door unlocking and opening took Jet and Albert by surprise. When the guards walked in pointing their weapons towards them, all they could do was stare in shock.

One of the guards quickly walked in, took a hold of the wheelchair and pushed it out of the room. "Stay there!" The man then threatened, his words snapping Jet back to reality.

"Wait, where are you taking him--"

"To the laboratory, to get him fixed. Where else?" Gilmore said from behind the doorstep, two other guards with their weapons pointed towards Jet next to him.

"What's this--" Albert tried to protest, only to be cut short by one of the guards shouting at him to be quiet. All he could do was obey, in part because it was clear there was no way to reason with them, and in part because he was afraid the guards might have taken this out on the other two.

"W-Wait..." Jet blurted out, clearly trying to take time. His eyes were darting left and right, looking for something. "His uniform--"

"We have it." Gilmore interrupted him, again. Then the guards slammed the door closed, without any ceremony, and the group of men started moving.

As his wheelchair was pushed through the corridors, Albert stood in silence, glaring at Gilmore every once in a while. He would have wanted to react, but held back and bit back the words he was very tempted to say out loud. It wouldn't have done him any good to antagonize him.

They finally arrived inside the laboratory, in front of a familiar group of people dressed in white medical robes. Albert could recognize most of them, including the ones wearing a mask, albeit not all of them by name. The guards pushed the chair close to the operating table, then walked out of the room. Some of the men in white stepped forward and picked Albert up, placing him on the table. For the whole time he didn't say a thing or move a muscle, just let them do.

"Seems like he decided to make things easier for us this time." Gaia commented as another man in white helped him put a medical gown on.

Albert didn't reply, just looked around as much as he could by turning his head left and right, while some other doctors told him to move around, lifting his torso and hips so they could take his pajama off.

"Is everything ready?" Another familiar voice asked at the people around. Albert recognized him as Brown, and turned his head towards him.

"Yes. We can start whenever you want." Gilmore said.

"Good." Brown commented. He then looked towards the table, and noticed that Albert was staring at him. "Is there a problem?" He then asked.

"No, nothing." Albert replied. "I just want my hand and leg back."

"We'll try." Gilmore answered, coldly. Then he turned his head towards another man standing a few steps close to him. "Put him under."

"Yes!" The figure promptly replied, and a moment later Albert found himself with a small mask covering his mouth and nose. The gas coming out of it had that familiar weird smell he had felt so many times now. He took in deep breaths, and waited until everything around him got more and more unfocussed.

* * *

The very first thing Albert felt was a sharp pain that brought him to full awareness. Thankfully it just a single isolated jolt, and as soon as it was over he felt better. When he fully came to he turned his head around to see where he was - still in the laboratory, lying on the table.

He sat up, and at first was surprised to find out he was alone. He looked around again, and only then realized that Gilmore was still in the room, sitting on a chair a few steps away from the table. The man was looking in his direction, rhythmically tapping a pen against a clipboard.

"You woke up, finally." He said after resting the clipboard on his lap.

"Where's everyone else?" Albert asked some moments later.

"Outside. And they're ready to come in if I need any help." Gilmore replied, dryly, moving his eyes down at the papers to scribble something on them. "I need to check a couple of things with you before I let you go." He added as he stood up and put the clipboard and the pen down on the chair.

As he waited for the man to step closer, Albert looked at himself. The very first thing that got his attention was his metallic right hand; he clenched his fist a couple of times without problems or feeling any pain, and turned his wrist around in any direction he could. He then pointed it towards a wall and started shooting, and as expected no actual bullets came out of it, it only made clicking noises.

"Does it respond well?"

"Yes." Albert answered laconically before shooting at nothing once again.

"You'll be able to practice at the firing range later. Now stand up."

Hearing this, Albert looked down and saw that now he had both legs, too. He moved them a few times and climbed down the bed, hissing as he felt another jolt of pain when he put his feet on the ground.

"What's the problem?" Gilmore asked.

"The floor is cold." Albert lied. It had just been a moment, now the pain was gone. There was no need to mention something as small as that, and risk passing another evening and night without his leg.

"Walk around the table."

Without saying a word, Albert complied. He walked naturally, as if he had just woken up from a nap and was just stretching his limbs. He wasn't feeling any pain at all, not even the slightest of inconveniences. Just to be safe he walked around the table once more, then squat down and stood back up a couple of times, first slowly and then more quickly.

"So, you're not feeling pain anymore." Gilmore commented.

"No, surprisingly." He replied, alternatively balancing himself first on his right foot, then on the other.

Gilmore nodded silently. "How about the rest of your body? Any problem?"

It was only then that Albert noticed he was naked, and his whole body had been once again covered with that strange fake skin.

"You're really going to stick this stuff on me, huh?"

"The shell of synthetic skin is to keep the components of your body protected from external agents, like water, and it's a basic safety procedure." The other explained, deadpan.

"Yes, I get that. But you could have simply covered me in metal." Albert replied.

In response, Gilmore gave him a glare: "Is there a problem with that?" He then asked, raising his voice.

Albert let out a chuckle. "Have you ever given a good look at me?" He sarcastically said when he stopped laughing, tapping on one of the spherical joints that connected his arm to his shoulder.

"That look isn't of your liking?" Gilmore asked back, without flinching.

"At all. All the time and money you must have spent to give me back my face, and to put this stuff on me, when you could saved yourself the hassle and just made me all in metal... I don't get it, at all."

"You don't want to look humanoid?"

Albert shrugged. "Does it even matter, at this point?"

Gilmore stood in silence for a while, looking deep in thought. "I see." He eventually said before falling silent again, except this time he looked like he had been distracted by something.

"So, is there anything else you want from me, or--" Albert started to speak, interrupting himself when he noticed he didn't have the other's attention. He stood in silence for a while, his sight on Gilmore, until the other suddenly snapped out of it.

"Yes 004, you were saying?" The man said as he picked a pair of sunglasses out of the pocket of his gown and put them on.

After a moment of confusion due to how out of nowhere that gesture that been, Albert replied: "I was asking if I can go, or if there's anything else you need from me."

"I still have a couple of questions, actually." Gilmore answered.

"What do you want to know?"

"How do you feel about 002 and 003, and about last evening in general?"

Albert was surprised by that question. "They were fun to be with." He then replied. "But you didn't have to hassle them like that, I can take care of myself."

"But you didn't mind their company, did you?"

"No. I really enjoyed being with them."

"Is there anything you have to say about either of them?"

"Regarding what?"

"In general."

Albert hesitated, wondering if the man was actually trying to get some personal information about the other two. "002 snores when he sleeps. It was annoying." He eventually decided to answer, without hiding his sarcastic tone.

"And that's all?" Gilmore asked back, not noticing the other's tone.

"Yes. Nothing else." Albert said with a shrug.

Gilmore nodded in silence. He looked lost in thought for another while, then turned around towards the chair, picked up the clipboard and scribbled something. "I see. In that case, you're dismissed for today. As soon as the guards arrive you'll be brought to the firing range to test your weapons. If there's any issue with them let us know. Your clothes are behind that screen." He eventually said, pointing to a curtain standing a few steps away from them.

Without saying a word, Albert turned around and walked behind the screen. As he put on his uniform, he launched a glance at the chair every once in a while: Gilmore had put the clipboard back down on it, and was now waiting with his hands behind his back, nervously tapping his foot. Looking better he noticed how, attached to the clipboard, there were a thick bunch of sheets and a pen, and suddenly got an idea. Ridiculous, he realized, but hopefully it might have worked.

He put on his scarf in such a manner to let a good part of it drag on the floor, and when he was done he walked out from behind the screen, in the direction of the chair. He deliberately put one of his feet on the fabric and, pretending to trip, threw himself against the chair, knocking it over and causing the papers and the pen on it to scatter all around. Scared by the noise, Gilmore jumped up and angrily glared at Albert.

"004! What are you doing!" The man shouted.

"N-Nothing, heh..." Albert replied, faking embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I just tripped on the scarf, heh..."

"Stand up! Now!" Gilmore yelled, kneeling to gather the sheets that had fallen to the floor.

While the man was giving him his back, too concentrated on the papers, Albert took the pen and stuffed it under his jacket. He also found a completely blank sheet, which he quickly folded and hid as well, then went back to pretending to pick up the documents. "Yes, sorry again, heh... let me help you." He answered in the same tone as before while reaching out for the other sheets around himself.

"Don't touch a thing!" Gilmore barked, turning his head back towards him.

"Y-Yes, sorry again..." Albert replied as he complied with the order. While looking at Gilmore picking up everything, fixed his jacket and let out a small sigh of relief.

After he had put together all the documents, Gilmore stood back up and checked through the papers. "Yes, everything's in here." He commented out loud before giving a glare at Albert. "Are you sure there's nothing wrong with your leg?"

"Yes, positive. It's just the scarf, I promise." He replied as he pulled up its extremity and slapped it a couple of times to clean it. He then took it off and wrapped it around his neck once again, this time properly.

"Be more careful next time." Gilmore said between his teeth, almost spitefully. Albert gave him a last awkward grin, then composed himself. Thankfully the man hadn't noticed a thing, great.

The two waited some more seconds, until the guards rushed into the room.

"Took you a while." Gilmore said, annoyed.

"What just happened--"

"Get him to the range, now!" He interrupted them, shouting. Then, with quick and nervous gestures, he put all the papers in the clipboard and walked out of the room.

When the door had closed, Albert raised his hands and walked in front of the guards who, after pointing their weapons at him, guided him. He went along with them, without making any resistance.

* * *

As he loaded his arm with bullets for the seventh time Albert felt much calmer, and even put a thin smile on his face. Somehow randomly shooting at targets helped, and a lot.

He pointed his hand towards the new, still intact target that was being moved in front of his eyes, aimed and started firing until he had completely run out of bullets once more.

 _'Go easy with that, will you? Are you trying to use up all the ammunition in the facility on your own?'_ 001's little voice resounded in his head.

"Oh, it's you." Albert said in a low voice.

_'I can read your mind. There's no need for you to speak out, the guards will think there's something wrong if they see you speaking to yourself.'_

"What--"

_'Don't worry, I'm not the kind of person who would go spy in people's heads without their permission. I'm just telepathically following what you're thinking right now.'_

Albert froze for a moment. _'Oh, really? Only that?'_

_'I promise.'_

_'I don't believe you.'_ Albert thought while pulling up his right sleeve.

_'I can't blame you.'_

_'So, is there anything you want to talk about with me? Or did you really only want to scold me because I'm using too many bullets?'_ He asked as he loaded his arm.

_'You seem to take very nonchalantly the fact that I can read your mind.'_

_'What can I do about it? It's not like I can fight it back. And I don't know what you look like or where you are, so I can't even find you and settle this in person. I can just hope you're not a liar.'_ Albert explained. _'For the last time, what do you want from me?'_

_'Just wanted to make sure you're alright. You just had your hand and leg reattached, and yesterday wasn't a joke, either.'_

_'I'm good, thanks for your concern.'_

_'Are you sure? Is there anything you need? I can try and see if I can pull a couple strings.'_

_'No, I'm telling you.'_ Albert said, pointing his hand towards the target, turning down his hearing so that he wouldn't be bothered by the noise, and starting to fire a series of shots one after the other. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped. _'No, wait, there's one thing you can do. Are you still there?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'What are 002 and 003 doing now? Can you tell me where they are?'_

_'You don't know?'_

_'If I did I wouldn't be asking, would I?'_

For a moment Albert swore he had heard 001 chuckling, or sighing. _'...obviously. A minute, I'll contact them.'_

After hearing that, Albert aimed his hand towards the target once more, and shoot the remaining bullets. When he was done he took a moment to admire the number of bullseyes he had managed to get, then started to reload.

_'They're busy training, and seem to have their hands full. I'll try to contact them later and ask them more.'_

_'But are they alright?'_

_'Yes, I had a talk with both of them, don't worry.'_ 001 explained, then made a short pause. _'You really grew fond of them during the day you passed together.'_

While he finished loading his arm, Albert answered: _'It's been the first time in months I've had company, at least with people who don't jam more metal into me, push me around or point a weapon at me.'_

_'Would you like to pass the evening with them, like yesterday?'_

_'Yes.'_ Albert immediately replied - way too hastily, he realized, but it wasn't like his answer wouldn't have been obvious. And besides, 001 could read minds, so he could have found that out by himself.

 _'Don't worry about that, 004. It's a normal reaction.'_ 001 said. _'Anyway, I'll talk about it with Gilmore, it shouldn't be too difficult to convince him to arrange for another evening and night.'_

Albert hesitated a few moments, then added: _'Also, if you can manage, could I have a sewing kit?'_

_'That shouldn't be a problem.'_

_'In that case thank you in advance, even if you don't succeed.'_

_'You're welcome. And if there's anything else I can do...'_

_'The only other thing I want more is to get out of here.'_ Albert replied while pointing his arm towards the target and preparing himself to shoot.

 _'Obviously, and I'm working on it.'_ 001 commented. _'Well, I'll leave you here to your training, I don't want to bother you. Take care, and see you later.'_

 _'I will. Later.'_ Albert laconically replied, right before shooting at the target once more.

* * *

The door opened and Gilmore walked in slowly, almost dragging his feet. He closed the door, reached the chair behind his desk and unceremoniously dropped himself on it.

 _'Ты устал?'_ Ivan started the conversation as soon as he had sat down, almost on cue.

"Yes, _very_ tired." Gilmore said out, stressing the second word. "Just tell me what you want, and make it quick."

Ivan had expected that kind of reaction. When Gilmore spoke back to him in English, it was his manner of telling him that he wasn't in the mood for chatting - which was the reason why he had decided to start the conversation in Russian, just to test the waters. That, and the question he had asked immediately after made it clear he wasn't just tired, but in a foul mood as well. Still, Gilmore wasn't telling him to leave him alone or shutting him down, so he should have taken advantage of it.

 _'It's about the other three. I've heard you've acted very rudely with them this morning.'_ He went on, choosing the most detached, cold phrasing he could think of.

"I was in a hurry and had no time to waste." Gilmore replied. "Besides, I took care that the guards didn't hurt them, or act out of line."

_'I know. But still, a very stupid move on your part.'_

"I'm well aware of that, thank you. Is there anything else you want to ask?" He replied, harshly.

 _'If there's something eating at you, don't take it out on them. I have a good memory for this kind of things.'_ Ivan replied. Then, after letting some seconds pass just to let his words sink in, he added: _'I have another couple of things to ask you, actually. First, did you manage to get answers from them about how they found their evening together?'_

"Only from 004. He seemed to have enjoyed the experience."

_'How about 002 and 003?'_

"I'll ask them too, eventually."

_'Eventually? Do you mean after you've taken a rest?'_

"Eventually." The man repeated. "For me the experiment is over, I have all the data I need. Now stop pestering me about it."

So, something _had_ happened, no mistake, and for some reason he didn't want to talk about it. Not that his refusal to explain himself was a huge problem for Ivan, all he had to do was reading his mind and find out. It was something he would have never done to the other cyborgs, but with Gilmore and the doctors it was a whole different deal.

And so he concentrated, and tried to find out the origin of the problem: there were two moments that seemed to pop up over and over in Gilmore's head - in one case it was 002, asking why they weren't 'more efficient', and in the other 004 wondering why they had even bothered making him look human.

Then there was something else, something that seemed to annoy him even more than that - it was about Brown, and the fact he had seemingly embraced the "experiment" with so much enthusiasm.

So, those were the things that had bothered Gilmore? Ivan couldn't help being amused: he had imagined that the reason for his bad mood would have been some order from above, which was the case - but he was also annoyed by what 002 and 004 had said? Given what he had learned about Gilmore it made sense, but it was still strange and kind of fun to witness it in person.

 _'So the rumors I heard about Brown taking control of the project from you are true...'_ Ivan decided to comment, pointedly.

Gilmore jumped up. "And who exactly did you go and ask to, huh?" He replied, affecting a cocky tone, after some hesitation.

_'I didn't ask, I just picked it up around, listening to what people were talking about in the corridors.'_

After replying that, Ivan could notice how inside Gilmore's head there was all of a sudden an almost complete void, almost as if he was scared of focusing, and thinking about something in particular. For a moment he almost felt bad for having told him that lie, but then remembered that if Gilmore wasn't going to tell him the whole truth, why should he?

_'It's interesting, I would have imagined you'd be happy about something like this happening. Having someone else take control of the whole thing means that my own hands are tied, too.'_

"It also means I can't just end it right now, since I don't have the last word about it." Gilmore replied, almost without realizing.

 _'Then why didn't you say something, or just refuse his help?'_ Ivan asked, pointedly. He waited some time but got no reply, not even from Gilmore's own thoughts. _'Anyway, do you really want to end it now? You're really no longer interested in studying their reactions?'_ He went on.

"I never was. And besides, I think I know enough about them by now. More than I would have ever wanted to know, actually." The other replied, growing more and more openly annoyed with every word.

_'Oh, really? You said you only spoke to 004 about it.'_

Gilmore chortled. "It's still more than enough for me. And I can't wait to be completely done with this nonsense."

 _'Well then, if that's how you feel about it... but given how things turned out there isn't much I can do either.'_ Ivan replied, trying to act as nonchalant as he could. In reality he was very bothered by Brown's sudden interference, but he wasn't going to tell him out loud. _'I can sense you're confused. Keeping on communicating while you're like this would just give you a headache, so I'll leave you alone for now.'_ Ivan eventually added.

"Yes, go. Leave me alone." Gilmore said after letting out a sigh.

 _'Since there isn't much to do about the experiment at the moment, I suppose we'll have to go along with it.'_ Ivan replied. That was the one good thing about Brown's interference - now Gilmore wouldn't have been able to just end the experiment whenever he wanted, which meant 002, 003 and 004 could have spent more time together. _'And while we're talking about it, would you mind sending them a sewing kit? From what they told me, they need one.'_

* * *

Jet and Françoise walked down the corridor, following the pace of the two guards at their sides, like the evening before. And, like the evening before, they were being guided them through the same route, leaving little room for doubt about where they were going.

And so, when they arrived in front of the room, the door was opened and they were unceremoniously pushed inside, weapons pointed at their backs. This time, unlike the precedent night, there was no protest on their part. As soon as they were inside they both looked at the bunk bed, and saw Albert laying on the bottom bed in his pajama; when he saw them the man sat up and silently waved, giving them a thin smile. The guard then warned them that their dinner would have been served in half an hour, but they weren't paying any attention to him. The door finally closed, and they both allowed themselves to break into a smile, reaching the other with quick steps.

"004!" Françoise called out.

"Hello. How are you?" Albert replied.

"Us? How are _you_ doing?" Jet asked, leaning against the top bunk bed with his elbow.

"Much better, as you can see." The other answered, knocking on his right leg with his right hand.

"I'm so happy to see you!" Françoise said.

"Me too." Albert replied, moving out of the bed to stand up. When he was on his feet, Jet could finally gave him a good look from head to toes. The man looked strangely bigger now: he was wearing that same pajama he had worn the night before, and while then it was a bit large, now he filled it more. It was probably because of something they had done to his body, he realized, so he decided not to ask anything about it.

"Are you two alright? You look pretty beat up..." Albert eventually commented.

"Oh, n-no, it's nothing." Jet replied, brought back to reality by Albert's words. "We just got back from training, so as you can imagine we got tossed around pretty badly. Nothing broken, though."

"Yes, we're fine." Françoise replied before covering her mouth with her hand and letting out a yawn. "Sorry." She then said.

"Don't worry." Albert replied. "Rest if you need to, we'll talk later."

Jet nodded. "Yeah. If you want to go take a shower before me, go right ahead."

"Well, if you say so..." She answered before turning her back to them and reaching her bed. "It's really been a tiring day, and after this morning I was nervous and worried, too."

"Talking about that, what happened after Brown and the guards came here?" Albert asked.

"Nothing much, thankfully. They took you away, kept their weapons pointed at me through the window and told us to keep calm and get dressed." Jet explained. "At least they had the decency of waiting for 003 to be ready and get out of the bathroom before starting to push us around."

"Yes." Françoise nodded. "It took me a while, I heard those loud voices from outside the door, and was scared... I could barely move..." She started shaking. "The noise was booming in my head, I had no idea what to do..."

Jet walked close to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "It's okay, it's over now." He said in a soft voice.

Françoise stood still for a moment, looking down at the floor. She breathed in, raised her head and looked at him: "I... will go take a shower now. I'll be right back."

"Yes, go and don't worry." Jet replied, moving away his hands. She picked up her pajama, walked towards the bathroom with fast, long steps and closed the door behind herself.

Albert sat down on a chair and waited in silence until he could clearly hear the noise of the water running. Then he turned around towards his bed, to his folded uniform, picked the sheet of paper and the pen. He scribbled something and passed it to Jet.

 _What really happened this morning?_ , the paper said.

Jet took the pen from the other's hand and wrote down his response.

_Didn't hurt or hit us, but shouted a lot and pointed guns. They treated 003 OK, but I didn't trust leaving her with them so I didn't go to the bathroom and put my uniform on here before she got out_

Albert read that, then wrote down his reply. _Well done. And how did you and she feel?_

_I was nervous and angry, but kept it to myself to avoid things could get bad. She looked shaky, I have the feeling she might have panicked in the bathroom. Tried to ask her today, but she kept changing argument_

_'She did panic.'_ 001 intervened, taking the both of them by surprise. _'The stress of the situation set off her powers, and her hearing was heightened so much she could pick up everything in this room, highly amplified. I tried to get in contact with her, but her head was such a mess I don't think she even realized that. She must have thought that mine was just one of the many other voices in the background. She calmed down only when they brought her to the training grounds.'_

"Holy shit..." Jet mumbled.

_'I suggest you don't ask her questions about this morning right now. You should wait at least a few days.'_

_'Yes, you're right.'_ Albert thought.

_'You should speak out, 004. 002 can't read minds.'_

"Uhm." Albert mumbled in response, nodding.

"Yes." Jet added meekly. As he spoke that word, the noise of running water coming from the bathroom stopped. Noticing this, Albert picked up sheet and pen and hid them under his uniform.

_'The microphones aren't working today either, don't worry. Speak out about anything you want.'_

"So, how was your day today, 001?" Jet then asked in as normal a tone as he could.

_'Not much. I can't leave the room I'm in, so I can't really do anything. I did have a talk with Gilmore, however.'_

"You can't leave the room you're in? Never?" Albert repeated, baffled.

_'No. But to be fair to them, they have good reasons for that. Again, you'll understand when you'll meet me.'_

"Is it ever going to happen? You said you can't leave the room you're in, and we don't know where you are." Jet commented.

_'I will try to convince Gilmore, or someone else, to let us meet. For an experiment, or something like that.'_

"You mentioned Gilmore, again." Albert said.

_'After what happened this morning, it's normal that you're suspicious. But I have my reasons to try and get on his good side: I did some research, so to speak, and found out that Gilmore might be the one to help us. If I can manage to get to him, that is.'_

"If..." Jet repeated, letting out a sigh that sounded like a badly muffled chuckle.

"Be grateful we have an even remote chance at all." Albert replied, slightly irritated.

"I know, don't worry." He answered before slouching back on the chair. "But after this morning I'm afraid you're tricking yourself. If you're serious about this, that is."

Ivan hesitated a moment: remembering what he had read in the older man's mind, he was tempted to ask 002 what had happened between them. However, something told him that this was a discussion better left for another time, when they would have been on their own. He decided to just answer his question, for the moment: _'Let's just say that I found out something potentially interesting about him, and want to find out if it's true.'_

"Would you like to share what that 'something' is?" Jet asked.

_'Not yet.'_

Jet let out a long, loud sigh. He was about to say something, but before he could speak out a word the door of the bathroom opened. Françoise walked out in her pajama, her hair wrapped in a towel and her uniform on her arm.

"Hey 003, we were just talking with 001, but I think you must have heard." Jet said.

"No, sorry. I heard you were talking, but I wasn't really playing attention." She answered, slowly walking towards the bed. After putting her clothes on one chair, she got onto the bed and slipped under the sheets. "Go on speaking, don't worry, I just need to rest a bit..."

"Oh... well, you can sleep if you want--"

"No, don't worry... I just need to... _quel est le mot_..." She interrupted herself. "Lie down for a moment, that's it."

"Rest as much as you want, and don't worry." Albert commented.

_'Yes. Our conversation had gotten stuck anyway. We'll talk another time.'_

"Thanks." She replied with a smile. "Talk if you want, don't worry about me."

"Just think about resting, okay?" Jet said, giving her a half smile.

"Okay. See you later, and thank you." She then turned on her other side, giving them her back, and pulled the covers over her head. A few seconds passed in complete silence, as both Albert and Jet also stood still, almost afraid that moving a muscle could have made too much noise.

After some more time, however, Albert turned his head towards Jet and put his finger in front of his mouth, to signal him to be quiet, and moved back to his bed. He took a small tin box from under his pillow and, moving slowly and carefully, put it on the table. Then, always trying to not make a sound, he took Françoise's scarf from the chair she had put her uniform on, went back to his place and sat down.

Jet was almost on the verge of talking and ask him what was going on, but before he could Albert looked at him with a thin, conniving smile and opened the box, showing him its contents: some needles and safety pins, a couple buttons and a few small spools of thread.

That actually only managed to make Jet even more confused, but when Albert took the red spool from the box, suddenly he remembered about two days before, and all pieces got back at their place: he chuckled and picked a needle from the box, offering it to the other man. Albert took the needle with a smile and, after picking a long enough piece of cotton and snapping it with his teeth, passed it through the eye and, with careful and slow gestures, tied the two ends together.

When the other had finished, Jet pointed to himself, the sewing kit and the scarf, silently mouthing the word 'help'. Albert shook his head, smiling, and after carefully putting down the needle with the thread he picked up the scarf, looking at both ends to find out on which side she had torn off the piece of fabric.

Seeing there was nothing else to do for him in that moment, he called Albert's attention with a gesture, and pointed towards the bathroom, then to himself. The other man got the clue and nodded, so Jet stood up, went to his bed to take his own pajama and walked to the other room. Once inside, he slowly closed the door behind himself, making as little noise as he could. After relieving himself he started taking his clothes off, to finally take a shower.

 _'Hope I'm not disturbing right now.'_ Ivan's voice resounded in Jet's head, taking him by surprise and almost making him fall to the ground while he was taking off his pants.

"You--" Jet replied out loud, only to suddenly remember about 003 and interrupt himself. "Of course you are!" He then said in a whisper.

_'You don't need to talk, I can see what you're thinking.'_

"What..."

_'Don't worry, I'm not going to read your mind and find out your secrets, I'm just picking up your current thoughts.'_

_'Then why did we have to talk out loud until now?'_

_'Because I can read your thoughts, but 003 and 004 can't. As simple as that.'_

Jet stood silent, annoyed and feeling like a moron for having asked that. _'You can only read what I'm thinking, right?'_ He eventually replied.

_'Yes.'_

_'You can't_ see _me right now, can you?'_

_'No, don't worry. Whatever you're doing right now, I don't care. I just need to talk with you while we're on our own.'_

Jet let out a sigh, then resumed taking off his clothes. _'Whatever. What's so important that you need to talk about it while nobody else's around?'_

 _'It's about Gilmore.'_ Ivan explained. _'The way you talked about him before, to be precise.'_

_'And here for a moment I hoped you wanted to explain me why you trust him so much.'_

_'If you tell me what happened between you two, I'll tell you my reasons.'_

_'Are you trying to blackmail me?'_

_'No. But I have the feeling that the two of you had an argument about something important, something that relates to the reason why I think he's trustworthy. And knowing more about that will help me realize if I've just deluded myself this whole time, or if my hunch was correct and I actually have a hope to get him on our side. Especially after how he acted this morning.'_

_'I have to give it to you: when you put it this way, it makes sense.'_

_'There's no need to be sarcastic, 002, that's how things are.'_

_'Sure, sure. Anyway, an argument, you said? I don't remember anything like that, all I have ever done when he's around is stand still while he and his colleagues check on me.'_

_'He seems to be bothered by the fact you said something about being 'more efficient'. Does that ring a bell?'_

Jet hesitated a moment, surprised. _'What? Really? Is he bothered about that?'_ He then let out a laugh.

_'He really is. And I'd like to know more about what happened from you, too.'_

_'You want to hear both sides, seems right.'_ Jet replied as he walked under the shower. _'Anyway, it wasn't really an argument. It happened yesterday. Gilmore and Brown were visiting me and asking me questions, so I asked back why they had built us able to feel pain, and said that if they hadn't done that, we would have been more efficient.'_ He explained as he opened the faucet and let the water spray over him.

 _'I see.'_ Ivan commented after a bit. For a moment Jet was a bit surprised to realize that, despite the noise of the water, he could hear the other's voice loud and clear over. _'And what made you ask that question?'_ Ivan went on.

 _'I've been wondering that for a while. If we're supposed to be used to fight in battles against helicopters and tanks, why give us a disadvantage like that? They gave me an explanation that made sense, but after what happened to 004 I'm even more convinced they should just get rid of this whole feeling pain thing.'_ Jet replied, taking the bar of soap and starting to clean himself up.

_'I understand why you think that, 002.'_

_'But actually doing something like that would be stupid, you wanted to add?'_

There were some long seconds of silence before Ivan's reply: _'And how did you know I wanted to say something else?'_

Jet chuckled. _'It wasn't too difficult to guess.'_

_'I suppose so. But you're wrong about what my words would have been: what I actually wanted to say is that taking away your capacity to feel pain would irreparably damage the way you react and your nervous system in general, to the point your brain would stop working properly: not receiving the correct stimulation, it would stop giving it out as well. The risk for you would be to end in a state of detachment and isolation from the real world, unable to properly interact with it due to not knowing if you can trust your senses or not. Your perception of the reality around you would end being warped irreparably, which could lead to serious lasting mental damage. Which, from the point of view of the doctors, means you'd be unusable for the project, so they'd have to find another test subject to turn into a cyborg. And I hope I don't have to tell you what that would mean.'_

Halfway through Ivan's speech Jet had frozen, and kept still for a while even after the other had finished explaining; and for a while after that, his mind was a completely blank slate. When he got back to himself, he let out a nervous chuckle. _'Thanks for not beating around the bush, I guess.'_

_'As nice and practical as it would be, they can't just completely eliminate, or even tone down your ability to feel pain, the long term disadvantages outweigh the short term advantages. They can't afford to build cyborgs that need to be replaced often because they might break down as if it was nothing. Definitely not while they're trying to show off how much better that technology would be, compared to robots.'_

_'Yeah, makes sense.'_ Jet replied while starting to wash his hair.

_'All the doctors working on this project agree on this one point, so there's no chance they'll do something about it, as much as you'd like.'_

"Really? They don't agree on stuff?" Jet asked out loud, genuinely surprised to hear that.

 _'As strange as it might be for you to hear that, they're not a single entity. Sure, if Black Ghost demands something of them they have to comply, and of course the people above them have the last word on their final choices, but when it comes to anything else they have very different points of view on almost everything.'_ Ivan explained. _'For example, Gilmore is deeply convinced that they shouldn't wipe our memories.'_

Jet stood still for a moment, his mind blank, in complete disbelief. _'They want to do what? And how?'_

_'Apparently they have developed technology that would allow them to selectively delete the most recent memories in a human brain. They think of using it so they can avoid the possibility of us rebelling or trying to escape, so obviously it's a pretty popular idea, but not everyone agrees. As far as I know there are only four doctors that agree with Gilmore on this, and thankfully the doctor overseeing the whole project is of his same opinion, so they're not going to use it as easily. For the moment you shouldn't worry.'_

_'Easier said than done.'_ Jet replied. _'But I sure hope that you're correct about it.'_

_'I am, I know that for sure.'_

_'And that's why you decided to try sticking around him?'_

_'It's one of the reasons. I started developing an interest in him after finding out that he dislikes another doctor, someone I don't like myself. I decided to start talking to him because of that, and with time I managed to find out more about him, and felt like he could have been useful to us.'_

Jet took some time to rinse himself, then replied: _'I can't blame you for trying anything you can, but honestly I can't see that work.'_

_'Don't get me wrong, 002, I don't think I'll ever be able to fully bring him to our side, or even ask him to help us escape: Gilmore cares more about his research than about us, I know that for sure. But he's been listening to me and helping me, and I want to see up to which point.'_

Hearing that, Jet was suddenly reminded of that moment right after the visit, the day before: after he had asked that thing about being 'more efficient', Gilmore had approached him and asked about his words in that strange, almost creepy manner.

 _'What? Did Gilmore really react like that?'_ Ivan asked.

 _'...yes.'_ Jet replied, realizing that the other had just read what he had thought in that moment.

_'Interesting.'_

_'Anyway, I can only wish you the best of luck with your plan.'_ Jet replied after closing the faucet and walking out of the shower. _'If that's your real aim, that is. I appreciate your sincerity, but I still don't trust you. And the fact you're imposing yourself on us doesn't help my opinion of you.'_

_'I can't blame you. But I'm trying to be as honest and straightforward as I can with you, and you have to recognize it.'_

Taking up a couple towels, Jet dried himself up. _'If you want to be honest, you should tell about this to 003 and 004 too.'_

_'Yes. As soon as they're both awake, I'll explain this to them as well.'_

_'Good.'_

_'Anyway, thank you for what you just told me, it cleared up a few things.'_

_'You're welcome.'_ Jet replied. Then, taking advantage of the silence that followed, he finished drying himself up and put his pajama on.

After that he stopped for a moment to look at his face in the mirror, and felt his cheeks with the back of his hand looking for stubble. Nothing, not even after three whole days. He then put a towel around his hair, picked up his uniform and, moving slowly and trying to be quiet, walked back to the main room. He sat on the same chair he had been on before, after putting the clothes on its back.

When Jet sat down, Albert looked up from his work for a moment and greeted him with a nod of his head, before going back to sewing; in response, Jet slightly waved his hand. As he kept on drying his hair, he looked carefully at the movements of other man with needle and thread, pushing them through the fabric using the fingers of his left hand while he held the scarf with the right one. He took the needle between the thumb and pointing fingers of his left hand and pulled it, slowly and carefully, until the thread was tense, then started that series of movements all over again to do another stitch.

It took a bit for Jet to stop staring at the other man's gestures - then again, there was something soothing and relaxing, almost hypnotizing in his movements. And the fact he was managing to do that with those hands was even more impressive - and the care he was putting into it was incredible to see, too, and he couldn't take his eyes off him. Thankfully 004 seemed deeply concentrated on his work, and hadn't noticed that he was being looked at. It would have been weird, if he had turned his head and saw him staring.

* * *

When a guard hit the door repeatedly and loudly warned that dinner had arrived, Françoise woke up. But much to her own surprise, that didn't scare or upset her - overall, she felt surprisingly calm. She sat up on the bed and rubbed her eyes, then looked around herself: 004 was putting away something on his bed, while 002 had gone to take the trays there were being handed out.

She silently got out of bed and went to help the other two men arranging the table. Only when the window in the door was shut again they finally started talking.

"Hope you had a nice sleep, 003." Jet said.

"Yes, thank you." She replied, nodding.

"You should go wash your face." Albert suggested.

"Yes, I'll be right back." Françoise answered, smiling. She headed for the bathroom, quickly rinsed her face and returned to the main room. When she got there the two men had already sat down at the table, and were examining their dinner.

"Soup, again..." Jet said, giving a look at his dish and grimacing.

"Did you order something different?" Albert asked sarcastically.

"Don't be so smug, you got the same thing." The other replied, pointing at the dish in front of the other man.

In response, Albert picked up the spoon. "I love soup."

"You two only have some soup to eat?" Françoise asked, sitting at her place.

"Different body, different kind of-- hey, they gave you meat!" Albert started to explain, interrupting himself when he noticed what was in her dish.

"Yeah! Stew!" Jet added, sounding almost indignant.

"Do you want some?" She offered.

Albert looked at her dish in silence while, on the other side of the table, Jet was trying to hold back a laugh, clearly amused by the other man's wanting expression.

"Help yourself, I don't think I'll finish it."

Albert hesitated some more, then reached out with his spoon, only to stop himself halfway.

Françoise pushed the dish next to him. "Please."

"It's not much, are you sure--"

"Yes, don't worry." She interrupted him, nodding again.

" _Merci._ " He eventually said, reaching out and taking a spoonful of meat and vegetables.

"How is it?" She asked after waiting for him to finish chewing and swallowing the mouthful.

"I've had worse." He replied before going for another.

"Hey, leave some for 003!" Jet scolded him while opening the bottle.

"Don't worry about it, 002." Françoise said before Albert had a chance to answer. "Do you want some?"

"You're really not going to eat?" He asked while pouring Albert some water.

She shook her head. "Not really, I'm not feeling like it tonight."

"You have to eat something." Jet said, filling her glass.

"Yes, at least one piece of meat." Albert added, pushing the dish back towards her.

She shook her head and pushed the dish back close to him. "No, please, finish it."

"You don't eat meat?" Jet asked.

"No, I like it... I'm just not in the mood for it tonight."

After saying that, Jet looked at Françoise intently. She forced herself to keep a serious expression and don't avert his sight, and managed to. "Want my soup instead?" He then asked.

"What's in there?"

Jet put down the bottle and took his spoon. He stirred the content of his dish a few times, then replied: "Something. I hope."

"It's good enough for me." She replied, standing up from her seat. She leaned over and took his dish and spoon, then sat back on the chair and started to eat, slowly.

"So, how's that?" Jet asked as he leaned forward to take her fork from her side of the table.

"Not bad." Françoise said, surprised by that discovery as well.

"Glad it's of your liking, at least." Jet replied. "Well, _merr-ci_." He added, rolling the 'r' against his palate way more than he should have, before turning his head towards the dish and reaching out to dig into the dish of stew.

" _De rien, je t'en prie._ " She answered, smiling.

Jet turned his head towards her, the hand that was holding the fork frozen in mid air, with a confused expression on his face. Françoise let out a chuckle. "You're welcome. Please, help yourself." She translated when she was done laughing.

"Oh..." Jet mumbled, his eyes darting left and right in embarrassment. "Okay then..." He said in a shaky voice before concentrating back on the stew, picking a piece of meat and quickly stuffing it into his mouth.

Seeing that scene Albert couldn't help smirking, and didn't stop even when Jet gave him a very angry glare. Given how his attempt at intimidation hadn't worked, Jet decided to take advantage of the moment and went for the biggest piece of meat in the dish.

Taking another spoonful, Françoise gave them a last glance and smile, amused by the scene. For the rest of the dinner she kept on looking at the two, trying not to look at the dish under her eyes, simply moving the spoon from it to her mouth and back. That way, she slowly managed to finish her own dinner.

When he was done eating as well, Albert put down his spoon. "I really needed this, thanks again." He told Françoise.

"Don't mention it." She answered.

"Nah, you deserve it. You gave us your dinner." Jet added.

"And you gave me yours. I didn't really want mine anyway, so you made me a favor."

"I agree with him and insist, you deserve it." Albert replied. "In fact, I have something to thank you." He then added, standing up and going to his bed to take the scarf, thread and needle still dangling from it.

After a moment of confusion, Françoise looked behind herself, at her folded uniform, and realized what that was. She turned her head back towards Albert, and looked at him as he took a hold of the needle and started sewing again.

"I'm almost done, I just have to give another couple stitches and tie off the thread." He explained, without averting his eyes from his work.

It took her a moment to put all pieces together: "You didn't have to..."

"It was nothing, really. And besides, it kept me busy for a bit."

"Well... in that case, good." She answered, smiling. "Anyway, I'll be quiet now, and let you finish your work."

"Don't worry, I'm almost done." Albert said as he moved the tray away from in front of himself and put the scarf at its place. He made a couple loops with the thread and passed the needle through them, then carefully pulled the cotton until the small knots were tied up. After that, with less care and ceremony, he snapped the thread off with his hands.

"I had to leave some dangling thread, since I don't have a pair of scissors at the moment." He explained before folding the scarf in four and passing it to Françoise.

"It's alright, don't worry." She replied, taking a hold of it and unfolding it. After looking at it carefully, she stood up and took a few steps away from the table, then put it around her neck.

"Are you going to sleep with that on?" Jet asked, jokingly.

"I'm tempted." Françoise answered in his same tone as she did a small twirl, letting the scarf fly around a bit. "Again, thank you for this, 004, it was really nice." She then said while taking the scarf off.

"I'm glad you like it." Albert replied as he picked the needle from the table, stood up and went to put it away in its box. "To be honest I had decided to do this to apologize for yesterday and--"

"Don't mention it." Françoise interrupted him. "You don't have to apologize about that."

"Yeah." Jet intervened. "You had all reasons for being touchy like that--"

"It doesn't excuse the way I behaved."

"Knowing that you're sorry is enough, so please don't worry, and stop talking and thinking about it." Françoise added. " _Bitte?_ " She then added, smiling.

"Still, it's not something--"

 _'Just stop it, 004.'_ 001's voice resounded in their heads. _'If they got over it and don't want to talk about it anymore, you should do the same too.'_

"Oh, welcome back, 001. And thanks for the sewing kit." Albert replied.

_'You're welcome.'_

"So it was you..." Jet commented.

"You didn't tell him before, while you two were having a conversation in the bathroom?" Albert asked.

Jet turned his head towards the other man, surprised. "Huh? And how do you know we were talking?"

"I heard you speak a couple of times, and it didn't sound like you were singing under the shower." He answered.

_'Yes, we talked a bit. I had a couple of things to ask him about Gilmore. In fact, there are a couple things I need to ask you too, 004.'_

"On my own?"

 _'No, there's no need. After discussing with 002, I realized it's something I need to share with all of you.'_ Ivan replied. _'I suppose that, like 002, you have been wondering why, of all people, I have decided to try and get closer to Gilmore.'_

* * *

Gilmore knocked to the door and waited, but received no answer. He tried again, this time with more decision, and finally got a response.

"Oh, a moment!" The man inside the room loudly proclaimed. It took slightly longer than he would have expected, but eventually the door opened.

"Good evening, doctor Gilmore." The hint of embarrassment in the man's voice was at odds with the severe look on his face.

"Good evening to you, doctor Brown. I hope I didn't pick a bad moment." Gilmore replied.

"No, I was just lost in my thoughts, that's all. Anyway, please take a seat on one of the armchairs, I'll join you immediately." Brown replied as he closed the door behind himself and walked back to his desk.

Without saying a word Gilmore followed the other's indications and headed for the other corner of the room, where two armchairs were standing at the opposite sides of a small, low table. He picked the one that best allowed him to look at Brown's desk, while the man browsed through his documents.

"Some coffee or tea?" Brown eventually asked in a deadpan tone, as if he was a bored waiter taking an order.

"No. If I drink something other than water this late, I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

"I see." Brown said as he walked to the armchair in front of Gilmore's, holding a file in his hands. "In that case allow me to apologize in advance, since this discussion will take quite some time." He went on as he sat down.

"Please don't worry about it. I had that feeling, and had taken that into account."

"I'll try to make this as short as possible if I can help it, I promise. It's been quite a busy and tiring day for me as well, and believe me when I say that I look forward having a nice sleep even more than you do."

Gilmore bit back a comment about how he did believe him, since staying up too long wasn't good for the health of a man his age, and decided to move on to the main argument. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"A few things. First of all, I wanted to know how is the cohabitation project coming along, in your opinion."

"Well, very well." He hastily answered. Then, after calming down, he added: "I managed to get some interesting results for just two days, I mean."

"Are they getting along?"

"From what I could hear from 004 and from their general reactions, yes."

"Their general reactions?"

Gilmore nodded. "I've been listening through the recordings of the time they spent in the room together, and there seems to be no problem. They mostly do small talk, nothing to worry about." He made that up on the spot. The microphones didn't work at all thanks to 001, but obviously he couldn't tell him that.

"Small talk? For example?"

"They talked about each other, their likes and dislikes, and other similar arguments. Overall they seem to enjoy the atmosphere, and they even asked me for a sewing kit, to pass the time."

Brown raised an eyebrow. "A sewing kit?"

"I took the precaution of taking away scissors and other potentially dangerous objects, don't worry. They have nothing they can use to try and stage an escape or threaten the guards with."

"I see." Brown commented, nodding his head and sounding as detached and professional as he normally did. "That's very, very good. Could I have a recording of one of their conversations, one of these days?"

"Of course, whenever you want!" Gilmore answered, energetically, while taking a mental note to remember to tell about that to 001.

"Good. I look forward to reading your final report on the experiment."

Gilmore nodded in silence, his eyes fixed on Brown's face.

"And talking about you and 004, I'd be very curious to know a bit more about the outburst he had with you, this afternoon."

"Nothing in particular, he was--"

"Are you sure? We could hear your raised voices from outside the laboratory. It seemed like you were having a heated debate." Brown answered, severely staring into the other man's face.

"He just tripped and toppled a chair. It was a bother, but nothing to--"

"No, not that one. You ranted about it for a few minutes, we all know what happened. I'm referring to the argument you had before that."

"Oh... oh, that one, I see. Before that, he was complaining about the protective shell of synthetic skin we put on him, as usual." Gilmore calmly explained.

"Could you tell me more in detail what he was complaining about?"

"Like I said, the usual things. He doesn't like it, so he has to voice his disapproval as loudly as he can. At least this time he didn't try to rip it off."

"Baby steps, I guess." Brown mumbled. "And that's all?" He then asked, louder.

"Yes."

"I see..." He commented as he looked down at the folder on his lap and searched among the papers. "Anyway, since we're talking about 004, there's something I found out while going through the results of yesterday's analysis..." He said as he passed him some sheets.

Gilmore took the papers and checked them, seeing they were schematics of 004's leg with notes written down all over the blank parts of the sheet.

"That's the real reason why I called you here tonight, Gilmore." Brown said before the other could even start to try and decipher his angular handwriting. "The real reason for 004's malfunction wasn't just a simple error we made during the last repairs. It's a structural issue."

"Structural?"

Brown stood up and walked close to Gilmore's seat. Then, with a calm gesture, pointed at one of the handwritten spots on the paper and started talking. "There wasn't any material damage in the leg, and it still worked properly even after we took it off. It didn't accidentally send any signals that his brain could have mistaken for pain - me and Whisky personally checked if any had travelled through its synthetic nerves, or through the wires that allow the mechanical parts to move, and the results were negative. However, his brain did send unsolicited signals of pain back to the rest of his body, and that's why he had that crisis."

Gilmore listened to that explanation, then looked down at the paper and read through the note the other man was pointing at. The description matched what he had said, though with different words.

"What he felt wasn't something physical that was then transmitted to his brain, but something that started in his brain and was then spread through his body." Brown went on when he was sure he had the other's attention. "Now, if you think about the other malfunctions and see those events in the light of this discovery, things start to make a lot more sense, don't they?"

"...yes..."

"The real problem is that 004's brain is not synchronizing with the replacement nervous system we have implanted in him." Brown explained just as Gilmore had reached that same conclusion on his own. "It's an unprecedented situation."

"I beg to differ: all the other cyborgs had to deal with similar situations, too. 002 had issues with his legs, several times!"

"Right after the operations, yes. And as soon as the period of convalescence was over their organic parts fully integrated with their implants. And in 002's case there's also the fact that, since we started working on him, we've been constantly experimenting with what kind of abilities we could have added to him, and adapted his body several times to keep up with the strain of his new skills. But since we stopped working on him regularly his physical issues have ceased as well, and he has recovered in full very quickly. In 004's case we haven't been adding anything since the day of the operation to transfer his brain to his new body, we've only fixed minor issues. He has had all the time to get used to it by now, but it's not the case. And this is an issue we can't afford to have in our cyborgs."

"Still, it's unfair to make such a comparison: don't forget how 004 has literally no other organic parts that have to adapt." Gilmore said. "The modifications 004 has had to deal with were much more radical and in-depth than the other three."

"Honestly, I don't think that the implants 001 and 003 have had to deal with are any less important. The extent of 002's modifications isn't something to joke about, either, and he has managed to get used to them quickly."

"Then what explanation do you have for this?"

Brown straightened his back. "Personally, I blame age. 003 biological age before her conversion was nineteen, while 002 was one year younger than that, and of course 001 wasn't even one year old. 004, on the other hand, was thirty."

Gilmore stared at Brown in silence, while the other went on explaining: "The bodies of the other three were still in their growing phase: 003's natural physical development was also slightly delayed, possibly due to her lifestyle as a ballerina, according to what she told us. 002 was towards the end of his puberty, and 001 was literally just starting to grow up. They were still all about getting used to physical changes, so they had it relatively easy when it came to dealing with the modifications. 004 was a fully grown man, and this is what I think makes it difficult for his organic parts to adapt to such changes."

After listening carefully, Gilmore leaned back against the armchair, and tapped his fingers on its armrest. "That's an interesting theory, doctor Brown, and you should definitely write a report on it and share it with all of us, and maybe even with the higher echelons. However, I think you're going too fast. So far 004 has had only one major crisis, two days ago, and has managed to recover from it very quickly. Like he did in previous occasions when he had minor episodes, I might add. I agree with you that the reason why it's taking longer for him to get used to it than the others is very likely due to his age, but I also think we should keep on insisting. Didn't you say just yesterday that there's still a lot of information we can get from him?"

"Exactly. I think we should keep him around to study him, no doubt. He would make for a very important source of information in our studies about phantom pain. However, as you can imagine, that would mean taking him off the cyborg soldiers project."

At those words, Gilmore widened his eyes. "So, that was what you meant yesterday when you said we shouldn't let go of him?"

"Is there a problem with my proposal, doctor Gilmore?"

"No, nothing, it's just... given your opposition to doctor Gaia, I thought you meant you didn't want to get 004 off the project!"

Brown stared at him for a few seconds in silence, then let out a small chuckle. "I see. Allow me to explain myself better, then. No, I don't share Gaia's ridiculously intransigent position of getting rid of the test subject completely, and I definitely don't agree with him in regard to wiping the minds of the cyborgs as casually as he suggested. However, I also don't agree with doctor Whisky's position of sticking to the current test subject no matter what, only because finding a new one would take time." He made a brief pause. "I completely understand where he comes from. He's afraid that if we allow this to happen it might create a precedent that would make all test subjects that have been promoted to the cyborg soldier project so easily replaceable, and with 001 in the picture--"

"Do you really think _that_ is the reason why he's acting like this?" Gilmore commented on a whim, sarcastically.

"And what reason do you think he could have?" Brown asked back.

He shrugged. "I don't know. But I doubt it has anything to do with 001."

"Well, see that the way you prefer. But going back to the main argument, my personal position on the matter is that while we shouldn't just get rid of our test subjects, especially the human ones, the same way we get rid of defective machinery, we also shouldn't keep on wasting our time and resources if there are few chances of getting positive results."

"Few chances? _Few chances_?" Gilmore repeated, in utter disbelief.

"Don't get me wrong, I think that what we managed to do with the current 004 is incredible, to say the least: we pushed the limits of what we could do beyond anyone's expectations, even beyond our wildest dreams. However, that means that we don't know whether we have the technology to fix any problem that could emerge in the future. What are we supposed to do if any of the synthetic parts that make him functional were to fail for good due to his brain not being able to synchronize? The people from the material development department have been very clear about the fact that we're currently at the limit of what we can do with the current technology, and while they're hard at work to develop new materials it might take them months to get some results. Or possibly years." Brown explained. "We managed to catch lightning in a bottle once, this time we're not going to be so lucky."

Gilmore breathed in through his nose, then heaved out a sigh: the Brown he knew was a very pragmatic and to-the-point person, sure, but this bout of fatalism was too much, even for him. "I see where you're trying to go." He then replied. "But it's quite a dramatic scenario, the one you're describing. And thankfully the situation hasn't reached that extreme yet."

"We need to be prepared for the worst case. And that's why I called you here and wanted to talk about it right now. The results of yesterday's exam and today's maintenance cast a very ugly shadow on the whole project." He explained.

"Except you invited me to have this chat with you two days ago, _before_ the repairs and exam." He replied, almost without realizing it, and immediately regretted saying so - especially the choice of words. But much to his surprise, Brown's reaction was to smile back at him.

"Here's the two things I like most of you, doctor Gilmore: you're incredibly smart and very straightforward, and aren't afraid of speak out when you have to." He explained. "And yes, you're right. I have been thinking about replacing the current 004 for a while now. Ever since the third malfunction, to be fair. And I have been wanting to talk with you about this for some time, but I wanted to have more solid evidence, like the one you're holding right now."

"Solid evidence?" Gilmore repeated, confused.

Brown gave a nod, then started to explain. "For whatever reason, you seem to have gotten closer and closer to Whisky's position--"

"Hah! As if!"

In response, Brown raised an eyebrow. "Say what you will, but you seem to agree with him a lot. If not explicitly, with your actions and proposals. The way you just got so defensive about 004, for example..."

"I wasn't defensive of him, I was simply confused by your position. That's all." He tried to explain, as calmly as he could.

"Put it the way you prefer. However, even you'll have to admit that your attitude towards the cyborgs has changed quite a lot recently."

Instinctively, Gilmore averted his sight for a moment, but looked back at the man right away. "Admittedly, yes. You're right, I started to pay more attention to the cyborgs in the last period. But that's because I don't want the project to derail now that we're at a good point, so I'm being much more careful with them." He explained.

And hearing that explanation, Brown's expression turned dark for a few instants, only to quickly return to his more natural serious glare. "Really, doctor Gilmore?"

"Yes, I promise--"

"In that case, shouldn't you go for the option that would allow us to save time? Finding a different 004 would avoid more delays, in case things get for the worse."

"At this point in the experiment finding another test subject, modifying it and training it would take much more time."

In response Brown let out a chuckle. "For a moment you sounded so much like doctor Whisky, your natural accent slipped in." He then said in a joking tone.

Gilmore raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed by that comparison. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I just said." Brown replied, turning around and heading back to his armchair. "You seem to have developed a personal attachment to those cyborgs." He said after sitting down.

"That's not the case." Gilmore replied. "It's just that, given the expenses for building 004, having to admit an even partial failure would mean a cut in our funds, or being put on a leash in regards to what we can and cannot do for a while."

"It's not going to be the case. Not at this point in the research, and not after three successful attempts." Brown said, calmly. "They weren't putting pressure on us when we kept on changing our minds about what to do with 002, they definitely won't do it now, trust me."

"Trust you, huh..." Gilmore repeated under his breath, amused by that request. "Have I ever not trusted you, doctor Brown?" He then asked, louder, as he put the file on the table.

"This time I need you to have more trust in me than usual, Gilmore." Brown said, gravely, before falling silent. "So, please, think about this. I'd like to see the results of at least the first part of the project as soon as possible."

Gilmore stood still for a bit, to process the other's words, then nodded. _Then why do you want to start all over again_ , he almost asked, but managed to hold back. "I will. However, doctor Brown, let's not hurry things. I'd love to see my own project, the cohabitation experiment, go on to the very end." He said instead.

Brown glanced at him in silence, then cracked a smile. "I see. You're really invested in that experiment, aren't you?" He made a pause. "I really admire the fact you have such a sincere and deep interest in your research. In that case, I'll respect your dedication, and won't talk about this again until after I get through your report on the cohabitation project, to avoid distracting or putting any stress on you."

Gilmore nodded, not even trying to hide how relieved he felt to hear those words.

After a few more seconds of complete silence, Brown stood up from his seat again and asked: "If you don't mind, could you please help me rewrite the report about today's operation? I found your insights very helpful, and I wouldn't want to accidentally misinterpret something due to my own personal biases."

"Gladly." Gilmore calmly replied. A part of himself couldn't help feeling a bit smug at that request, even if a voice in his head kept on repeating that the real reason for asking that favor was making him lower his defenses by stroking his pride. Then again, this was Brown he was talking about; the man had been very direct with him, and knew he didn't need to butter him up. So, after waiting for Brown to sit down at his desk, he got off the armchair and reached the man on the other side of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ты устал? - Are you tired?
> 
> Quel est le mot - What's the word


	4. Day 4

It was a strange, repeated noise that woke Gilmore up, suddenly and harshly. He sat up on his bed, groggily, and instinctively turned to his bedside table to switch the alarm clock off.

He put its hand on it and turned his head to be sure he had turned it off properly, and in doing so he realized there was something off, but took him another few seconds to fully understand what: there were still fifty minutes left to the time it was supposed to ring. He stared at the clock's hands in disbelief, wondering what was going on, until the noise of someone hitting the door made him turn his head in its direction.

"Gilmore! Are you in there?" A voice called, and more hits followed.

After a moment of confusion , Gilmore recognized the noise that had woken him up, put the clock back on the table and got out of the bed. "Yes, yes... I'm here Crofts, no need to tear down my door!" He said as he reached it.

"Alright, but hurry up, it's urgent."

Gilmore quickly threw a dressing gown on and reached the door. "Urgent? I hope it's not--" He let out a yawn, then went on: "Not a joke or--"

"It's Skull. We're all summoned in the meeting room in fifteen minutes." The other man interrupted him, speaking loudly and quickly.

Gilmore froze in place for an instant, any sleep he had left in himself completely gone at the mention of that name. "What happened?" He asked back.

"No idea. Get ready quickly and come." Crofts replied.

"A-Alright... ten minutes and I'll be there."

"Good, I'll warn everyone. Be punctual." The other answered, and a few moments later he heard noise of footsteps moving away and getting fainter and fainter.

Gilmore let out an annoyed grunt, scratching the back of his head. He took the gown off, threw it on the bed and headed for the bathroom, cursing under his breath. A sudden call for a meeting from Skull himself, so early in the morning? Something bad must had happened - or, if that wasn't the case, something big.

He washed and dressed as quickly as he could while thinking about any and all possibilities regarding what could have been going on, then stormed off his room and crossed the corridor with quick steps in the direction of the elevator.

When he reached the meeting room he was happy to find out that the seats were still half empty. That meant he wasn't late, thankfully. He waved at Crofts, who was busy talking with another man sitting next to him, and headed for the second row of chairs, only to be stopped by a familiar voice calling out his name before he could sit down.

"Doctor Brown." Gilmore returned the greeting, turning in the other man's direction. "What's going on?"

"I wish I knew. I just woke up too." The other replied, shrugging. He could believe that, the man had some heavy bags under his eyes. "Whisky warned me, so I hurried here."

Only after that mention Gilmore realized that the other man was there as well, sitting next to Brown. "According to what I've been told, we received a message from Black Ghost's headquarters just a couple of hours ago, saying he needed to talk with us all." Whisky started to explain.

"And no explanation about what he wanted to talk, I guess." Gilmore replied, taking a seat on the chair right behind Brown.

"No, obviously." The other answered. "But I don't think it's going to be anything good..."

"I wouldn't be so negative, doctor Whisky." The man sitting behind Gilmore said, making him jump up when he realized it was Gaia. "If there was any serious problem, we would have received a message about it in advance."

"I agree." Brown replied, crossing his arms. Then, speaking lower, he added: "The higher echelons aren't too keen on letting news of problems spread around."

"You think so?" Gilmore asked, instinctively.

The other nodded. "And if, for whatever reason, they wanted to publically shame some of us, there would have been rumors going on for at least a couple of days." He explained.

"Yes, and thankfully things have been relatively calm in the last few days." Whisky commented. "Still, the fact they decided to call us here at this hour means there's something big going on."

"I sure hope so!" Brown replied in an annoyed voice before suddenly breaking into a yawn. "Unless it turns out to be some real life or death situation, as soon as this meeting is over I'll try to catch another couple hours of sleep." He then said.

"Would you like a cup of coffee before we start?" Gilmore asked.

"I already drank one, thank you." He replied.

Gaia nodded silently. "You should probably take a day off--"

"No, there's no need--"

Before Brown could say anything more the lights in the room got dimmer, signaling that the meeting was about to start. Everyone's sight moved towards the holographic projector in front of them, and a small red light on the front of it turned on. A few last people hastily reached the room and one of the chairs, and joined the others in waiting. Some seconds later the light changed to green, and an image slowly started to form above it. The men waited silently for the picture to become more clear and defined, finally showing them the likeness of Skull.

"Good morning to all of you." Skull's voice bleared through the loudspeakers under the projectors. The men returned the salutation, with different degrees of enthusiasm.

"I apologize for calling you here this early, but there's a development I needed to inform you regarding the cyborg project."

"A development?" A man repeated loudly.

"I have received your most recent reports about the latest training sessions and exams, and read them carefully. First of all, allow me to congratulate you for the huge steps forward you have managed to make in the last couple months alone. You all did an amazing job, and we're all very pleased with your results."

There was some murmuring in the room for a few seconds. Among all the voices, Gilmore could overhear someone wondering in a low voice with the person next to them if that preambule should have made them worry. When the noise calmed down, Skull went on: "However, according to those same documents, there have been some... issues with one of the cyborgs."

At those words, people started murmuring again.

"The fact something like that happened is really unfortunate, especially at this point in the project. What makes it even more frustrating is that the causes are clearly beyond your control. You have reached the limit of what you can currently do to fix it."

Skull's explanation sounded very familiar to Gilmore. Those were the same words Brown had used the last night about why he thought they had had that problem with 004, weren't they? They had finished working on that report back then, literally a few hours before. Had Brown already sent it to the headquarters?

"Because of this, we have decided to send a few external experts to provide you with some help and counseling in your research."

"...I see." Brown replied some moments after Skull had finished talking. "It's a good idea, and a very useful gesture on your part. But there was no need to go for an emergency call like you did."

"There is, actually. The experts are already on their way and will be there tonight, tomorrow morning in the worst case. Written messages take time, and I needed to warn you all as quickly as possible." After Skull was done talking there were a few seconds of complete silence, until all of a sudden almost every single person in the room started to protest, almost at the same time.

"What? It's too soon!" Brown jumped up from his seat, his voice drowned by those of everyone else in the room.

"Silence!" Skull then shouted, causing half the men in the room to shut up. The other half followed suit at the second call for calm, this time coming from Brown.

Among the latter bunch of people, there was Gilmore as well. When the place got quiet he looked in front of himself towards Brown, but could only see the man's back as he was still standing up. A few moments later Whisky got up as well and, putting his hands on the man's shoulders, invited the older man to sit down. After nodding silently, the man did as he had been advised. "I think I speak for everyone in this room when I say that, while we appreciate the gesture, it's all too sudden."

"Yes! Exactly!" A man shouted from the other side of the room, immediately joined by another couple. Brown called out for calm again, before the room could fall into chaos once more.

"Thank you, doctor Brown." Skull replied. "And in regard to how quickly we acted, we simply checked your reports carefully, and found out that your schedule between today and tomorrow is relatively less busy than usual. Postponing it any further would be a waste of time." He made a short pause, then added: "We all want to see the first phase of this project reach a real, positive and definitive wrap up soon, after all. Don't we?"

From his seat, Gilmore could clearly hear Brown snort loudly. "I see." The man then answered.

The hologram nodded with a small, almost imperceptible movement. "The protocol for this visit is B-E-3. There will be three men reaching you, their complete profiles should arrive you as soon as possible. Is there anything else you need to know?"

Brown turned his head to both his sides and gave a quick glance at every other person in the room. Then he turned back towards the holographic projector and replied: "No, it's all clear. Much easier than we would have imagined, actually."

"Good. In that case, I won't be stealing any more of your time. Keep up the good work, and see you next time." Skull said. A few seconds later the column of light that formed his image wavered a few times, then disappeared.

All men in the room stood still for another few seconds, until the lights in the room returned to their normal intensity. Only then they started to stand up from their chairs and talk, commenting to themselves or with each other about what had just happened.

"So much for this not being anything we should have worried about..." Brown finally said, calling the attention of a few of the people around.

"Honestly, compared to normal they're being incredibly generous and lenient." Gaia replied, shrugging.

Brown rubbed his face with one hand, then answered: "Comparatively speaking, yes. For some of us in particular. Well, I suppose we should go and start working on the preparatives for tomorrow." He let out a yawn. "Or rather, tonight."

"You should go and take a rest, doctor Brown." Gilmore said.

"I'll do it tomorrow, when I'll have time. Right now we have a lot to work on--"

"Precisely because of that, doctor Brown." Gaia interrupted him. "Take a short break, then you can come here and check how things are going, as efficiently as usual."

"He's right." Whisky intervened. "Just a couple of hours, like you said before, would be fine."

"Yes, like they said." Another man chimed in.

Brown looked like he was about to protest, but before he could actually say anything he seemingly lost any kind of energy. "I suppose you're right..." He commented, sounding almost resigned.

Whisky nodded silently. "Given the protocol, the most demanding thing will be to prepare some redacted plans for 004, and that should take a couple of hours, three at most. You'll have all the time to check that everything is in order in the afternoon."

Brown silently looked at the men surrounding him, which were gathering close to him by the second, then lowered his head. "I'm sure that if I tried to say you're wrong, the fact I'm lying to you would show." He commented in a level voice after looking up at them again. "I appreciate your concern, and I think I'll do as you ask. But don't forget that when I'll wake up I'll be checking everything carefully, so don't disappoint me."

"We won't!" A doctor among the crowd said.

"Yes. Please rest assured, and don't worry." Gilmore added.

"We will." Gaia replied, smiling his usual thin grin.

"Well then, good work, and see you later." Brown said. The group of people in front of him moved away to let him pass, and he headed for the door, only to stop himself before stepping past the doorstep. "Doctor Gilmore, I need you to do me a favor before I go rest, could you please follow me?" He asked, without even turning around, before starting to walk again.

"O-Of course." Gilmore answered, taken by surprise, reaching the other man at a normal, casual pace.

They walked through the corridor for a while, in complete silence, until Brown commented: "B-E-3, huh... I suppose that someone must have taken very seriously the idea of having me take a day off..."

"Heh, I guess." He replied, chuckling.

After that answer Brown put a stern expression on his face, but didn't say another word until they were in front of the door of the man's personal room. He then turned towards Gilmore, with a movement so sudden it startled the other man.

"I'm glad at least you found this fun, Gilmore." Brown replied in a low angry voice, almost a growl. "But I must say, it was quite an awful joke on your part."

"What?" The other asked, instinctively backing away.

"Stop playing dumb with me, Gilmore. Did you send the report we worked on to the headquarters behind my back?"

"N-No, why would I--"

"Because you're the only one who could have done that!"

Taken by surprise by that accusation, Gilmore hesitated for a moment before he could reply anything. "If you're so sure it was me, why did you even ask me first?" He said, as loudly and firmly as he could.

At that reply Brown took a couple steps backwards, his expression shocked. He stared at Gilmore for a few moments, then covered the lower part of his face with both hands, looking confused. "You're right, you're right." He eventually said when he moved his hands away. "I'm sorry... I'm too tired, and angry, and didn't think this through..."

"It's understandable." Gilmore said as he stepped closer to Brown, reaching out to try and put a hand on his shoulder, but stopping when he realized what he was doing.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assault you like that." Brown replied. "But promise me you didn't send tell anything to anyone."

"It wasn't me, I swear." Gilmore answered. "I would never do something that could put a wrench in our project."

Brown nodded in silence, looking away. After some time, he added: "Then again, just one night wouldn't have been enough for them to receive and read the whole report... I suppose that someone else might have told Skull and the others above him, possibly some time ago..."

"Someone else?"

"Someone who wants to give me a lesson, or something like that... remember Skull's words, 'we all want to see the first part of this project to wrap up for good'..."

Gilmore stood in silence, confused, and simply looked at Brown. When the other man noticed him, he shook his head. "Forgive me again, Gilmore. As I said, I'm too tired right now, I'm not thinking straight. I really need to rest."

"You really should. Please, go and sleep for some time."

Brown nodded to himself again. "While you're here, could you please go to the infirmary and bring me a sleeping pill or two? Right now I'm too nervous to hope to fall asleep."

"Yes, of course." He replied.

"Tell the nurses it's for me, they'll know what to give you. I'll be waiting for you in my room." Brown said while producing a key from the pocket of his gown.

"Alright. I'll be right back."

"Thanks again. And once again, sorry for my babbling. That's what sleep deprivation will do to a man."

"Please don't worry about it, just think about calming down and resting."

"I'll try." Brown replied, opening the door and walking inside the room.

Until he heard the click of the door closing Gilmore didn't move a muscle, and only then he turned around, traversed the corridor and walked into one of the elevators.

While he waited to finally reach the right floor, he tried to calm down, and thought back about what had just happened - everything had been so quick, he needed some time to let everything sink in.

The only good thing he could see in all of this was how it meant that, on the following day, doctor Brown would have finally had a day off - that was what the 'B' in the code stood for, the people coming to the laboratory were completely external consulents, with no previous or present ties to Black Ghost, and while they had signed a non-disclosure agreement regarding what they were going to see there, it also meant that all people working there who had been officially presumed dead in the outside world should have kept away, in order to avoid problems. That list, of course, included doctor Brown as well.

But while a small part of him that was glad that the man would have had some rest, he couldn't consider this situation positive in the slightest. The E in the code meant that the men were supposed to have full access to anything they would have wanted to visit and explained everything they wanted to know, as long as it didn't relate directly to the soldiers program. That meant they would have had to rewrite a few of their reports and schematics to make them more suitable for the visitors, and it would have taken a lot of work.

Finally, the 3 was the only fully positive part of this, meaning they would have been there for only one day - as soon as the morning of the day after tomorrow would have come the men would have departed. Although, now that he thought better about it, it was actually about as annoying as that: all that work, for only one day. It almost felt like a waste.

Regardless, that was the very last thing he needed to worry about for the moment, almost literally so. There was a lot of urgent work to carry out in the few hours they had left before the men would have arrived. The doors of the elevator opened and he rushed out, headed for the infirmary, to be done with that errand as soon as possible.

* * *

Compared to the morning before the awakening today had been a bit nicer, even if it was the usual routine of the lights in the room turning on, followed by the guards opening the window and telling them to get off their beds. Then again, after what had happened the day before anything would have been an improvement.

As soon as he had gotten used to the light, Albert sat up on his bed. The very first thing he could see was the profile of 003, already in her uniform, sitting at the table.

"Good morning." She said, noticing him.

"... morning..." Albert replied, rubbing his eyes, while Jet kept on tossing and turning in his bed, letting out a few grunts.

"Breakfast!" The guard from before yelled, and Françoise quickly reached the door. "Doctor Gilmore will be here to take you in about ten minutes. Don't eat." The man told her after passing her the trays.

"Of course." She replied before turning around and walking back to the table.

When the window in the door closed, Jet jumped off his bed and rushed towards Françoise and, taking her by surprise, put his hands on her shoulders. Seeing that scene, Albert got out of bed as well and reached the two.

"A visit? With Gilmore?" Jet asked, looking and sounding anxious, almost angry.

"Huh... yes..." Françoise replied after some hesitation, surprised and confused by that reaction. Then, touching her temple with one hand, she added: "J-Just my implants... the medical visit... there are some nurses doing it, all women..."

"Oh..." He mumbled, his anger disappearing in a matter of an instant. He stood still for a few seconds, before Albert moved closer and, taking his wrists, pulled his hands away from her shoulders.

"Let go of her now, and calm down." He told the younger man.

Jet turned his head towards him, then back at Françoise, his expression quickly turning embarrassed. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean..." He said, looking once again first at Albert, then at her.

"Just try not to be that aggressive next time." The other man said.

"Yes." Françoise added.

"I'm sorry again, it's just..." Jet answered, this time looking at Françoise. "It's just... that creep scaring you again, like yesterday."

"Oh, don't worry, I wasn't scared yesterday." She replied. "But you're right, after what happened yesterday I don't really want to be around him. But at least I'm not going to be alone with him."

"Really?"

Françoise nodded. "Yes, there's always at least another woman with the doctors when they visit me. But even when there's some emergency and there's only one or two of them to check me, they're very polite."

"Really?" Albert said, surprised. "I wouldn't have expected them, of all people, to behave like gentlemen."

"Yes, I was surprised about that, too. After all they did, that's the one thing they try to be nice about?" She answered. "But I don't complain about it, I don't even want to think what I would do if they treated me differently."

"I can imagine..." Jet said.

Françoise nodded. After that silence fell in the room for a few seconds, interrupted once again by her: "So, uhm, I already did everything, since I woke up earlier. If you need to go to the bathroom..."

Albert was taken by surprise by that observation, and how sudden it had been, but took the hint. He turned his head towards Jet and said: "No, I'm fine. If you have to go..."

"Yes, of course." Jet promptly replied as he picked up his uniform, walked towards the bathroom and locked the door closed.

When he was gone, Albert went to seat at the table, in front of his tray. He took a slice of bread and brought it to his mouth, only to stop just about and turn his eyes towards Françoise, who had sat down next to him. Seeing his expression, she gave him a wide smile.

"Don't worry, just eat." She said.

"Er... yes." He replied before taking a small bite from the bread, slightly embarrassed to do so despite her reassurances.

Some minutes later Jet got out of the bathroom fully dressed and, after carelessly throwing his pajama on his bed, he went to seat at his chair and started eating his breakfast as well. A few minutes later the window opened again and the guards intimated 003 to get out, while 002 and 004 had to keep at their place. She stood up and raised her hands, then walked slowly towards the door.

"See you later." Albert told her as the guards opened the door. Jet didn't say a word, just looked up at her, standing on the doorstep as the men took her by her arms, and smiled.

"Yes, later. And don't worry." She replied before the door slammed closed again.

After letting some time pass, just to be safe, Albert gave a quick glance at Jet and found him with an expression that made him look lost in thought. "Still nervous about 003?" He asked.

Jet shrugged. "I'm not nervous about her. It's just... I hope they don't make her freak out again. That she doesn't panic, I meant."

Albert finished drinking his glass of milk, then replied: "You shouldn't worry. She woke up early and was ready before the lights were even on, it didn't feel like she was afraid of whatever is going to happen."

"You think?"

"I suppose she's happy to be with other women for some time, after being forced to stay in a room for two men for days."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Jet said, leaning against the back of his chair and crossing his arms on his chest while looking at the floor.

Albert gave him a careful look and waited some time, to see if the other was going to realize he was being observed. Seeing no reaction from him, he finally asked: "What's the problem, then? Still thinking about what 001 said?"

Jet nodded.

"You don't believe him?"

"You trust him?" Jet asked back, his voice betraying a spiteful undertone.

"Not completely, but I believe him when he says he's not working for them, and that he wants to get out of here." Albert replied, calmly.

Jet sneered. "Some mysterious guy appears from nothing, swears to be a cyborg like us and promises to help us as long as we trust him and Gilmore? Too convenient. He's working for them, and trying to win our trust by acting like he's on our side, I'm telling you!"

"Don't make up stuff now, he never told us to trust Gilmore. Only why he started talking to him." Albert replied in the same level tone he had used before.

"Do you really believe all that crap he told us about Gilmore doing whatever he says because he might have some serious personal reason?" Jet asked, angrily.

"No. I'm skeptical about a few things, too, but I don't think he's working for them, or that he's spying on us. If that was really the case, why would he contact us the way he did, and admit that he can read our thoughts? He could have gotten closer to us more easily with the help of the doctors. He could have asked them to be put in this room with us, and spied in our minds without us knowing."

"He's not actually a cyborg, we would have found out if he had been with us."

Albert crossed his arms. "And how can you say that?"

"Until I can see what this 001 in person I'm not going to believe it, or trust him. Or at least until he can give us a good explanation why he can't leave the place he's currently in. I'm sick and tired of all this 'I'll explain later'."

_'If it depended on me, I would have already done that months ago.'_

Hearing the voice resounding in his head, Jet instinctively stood up from his chair. "Oh, speak of the devil..." He said in a sarcastic tone.

_'I said it before and I'll say it again, I understand why you wouldn't trust me, and don't blame you for that. And I do appreciate that you're being straightforward about it--'_

"Then why aren't you doing the same, huh?" Jet shouted towards the ceiling before Ivan could finish his sentence. "If you don't trust us enough to tell us the whole truth, how am I supposed to trust you?"

_'I never said I don't trust you, 002. I do, I trust you, and 003 and 004, I know you wouldn't betray each other, or go tell the doctors about what's going on with me. It's just that I can't tell you everything I know about Gilmore because there are a few things I'm not sure of yet, and much of it might turn out to be completely wrong, as far as I know. Given the situation, I don't want to give you any false hopes.'_

Jet let out a laugh and started pacing around the room. "Sure. You have enough influence on him you can make him put all of us in the same room and bring us what we want if you ask, but you still don't know everything."

_'It's not that easy, 002. I'm not sure myself if he's covering me because he's afraid of what I might do, or because he has some other personal reason to do so.'_

"Sure..." Jet repeated, openly sarcastic, while giving a shrug. "You _could_ learn it if you wanted to, I know it. You're just not doing it, and I'm sure I know why."

"Enough, 002." Albert intervened, standing up and walking next to him. "If you're going to act like this, at least have some proof for--"

 _'Don't be too harsh on him, 004. 002 has his motives to be so nervous and paranoid about this whole situation.'_ Ivan explained, taking the other by surprise by interrupting him mid-sentence.

Albert looked at Jet and, seeing that the other man only glared back at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence, realized that 001 had only spoken to him and decided to drop the argument. "Nevermind..." He finally said, stepping backwards.

"I'm right, and you know it." Jet replied before turning him his back, walking towards one of the chairs and sitting down.

After letting some moments pass, Albert let out a sigh and asked out loud: "Anyway, 001, how are you?"

_'Not bad, just a bit busy. There's a commotion going on, and I'm trying to find out what's happening. That's why I didn't come earlier.'_

"Really? Is there something wrong?"

_'In a sense. Apparently tonight or tomorrow some scientists from outside Black Ghost should arrive at this facility.'_

"What? Again?" Jet commented, his attention suddenly caught by those words.

"Again?" Albert repeated.

_'Yes, they did that once, time ago. They called some scientists from outside the organization to give a hand with their research.'_

"Did they check you too back then, 001?" Jet asked.

_'No, I was kept locked in a room. Back then I wasn't allowed contact with anyone, except a couple of doctors taking care of me, and I learned about it from them.'_

"Oh, really..." Jet commented before turning towards Albert. "Anyway, they showed me off to those guys, and explained that the research they were doing was to replace people's damaged limbs with robotic ones. And of course before they brought me to them the doctors instructed me to tell some stupid story regarding how I had volunteered for this project because I had some kind of problem with my legs. They also told me not to mention a single thing about the actual training I do here, and stuff like that. The only thing I could talk about freely were my mechanical parts, and how I was dealing with them."

Albert listened to the whole explanation, a shocked expression on his face. "Really..."

_'The doctors right now are doing some preparations to make sure they don't find out about anything that's actually going on here. Right now some are working on redrawing the schematics of your body, 004, to hide the fact you have weapons built in.'_

Albert let out a chuckle. "Good luck with that then..." He said, looking at his right hand.

"Anyway, I kept up the act since I had to, but I also almost managed to give one of those doctors a message asking for help. Sadly they found it out before I could hand it out to him."

"Congratulations. That must have taken courage."

"I had to try anything I could." Jet replied, calmly. Then, with a half smile, he added: "So I don't think they'll bring me out again this time."

_'Sadly you're right, I heard they're going to leave you in here. Gilmore is also going to bring me back to my old room, to avoid that I might try to get in contact with them telepathically.'_

"So, does that mean that tomorrow we're not going to hear from you?" Albert asked.

_'Until the other professors are gone, I'm afraid so.'_

"Then I guess they're going to take me and 003 to see them." Albert commented after reflecting about it for a moment. "Definitely me. After all it's my fault if they needed to call someone else here."

"Don't say 'fault', you did nothing wrong." Jet replied.

 _'Yes.'_ Ivan added. _'But you're right, I just heard the doctors having a discussion regarding whether or not they should bring 003 out too, and when they should show you to their guests. They mentioned the incident with 002 last time, and some of them were skeptical about bringing the two of you out at all and risk a problem like that again. But if they see that the guests are going to give them useful tips or suggestions, they will probably bring you out and show you to them, to see if there's anything they can do.'_

"I see..." Albert said, crossing his arms on his chest. "If that's the case, I'll see if I can pass them a message, or say something--"

"Don't." Jet interrupted him.

"Huh?"

"Don't. I'm not going to go into detail, but let me just tell you they weren't happy with me about what I did."

"I had guessed that." Albert replied, trying his best not to give away how unnerved hearing that out loud and straight from his mouth had made him. "But since we have this occasion, it would be stupid for me to waste it."

_'Be very, very careful then.'_

"Yes." The other said, nodding. "I will do my best. Is there anything else you need to tell us?"

_'Not much yet, the doctors found out about the guests only a couple of hours ago, so they're busy preparing everything.'_

"What? Only now?" Jet commented.

_'I'm surprised, too. Nobody knows why, either, but they seem to suspect that the bosses felt cheated by some of the doctors, and this move is more to send them a signal rather than to actually ask for help.'_

"This crap about them being divided in factions, again?" Jet commented.

_'They are, 002.'_

"Yeah, sure..."

"Interesting..." Albert finally commented, after spending a few moments lost in thought.

_'When I'll find out more I'll be back to let you know, don't worry.'_

"Thank you." The other replied.

"If you're interested, I can tell you what they did with me the other time." Jet said.

_'If you feel like it...'_

"Compared to how they usually treat us, that time was a party." He replied. "The most difficult part of it all was saying what they told me to while keeping a straight face."

* * *

As Françoise took off the rest of her uniform, she couldn't help feeling embarrassed and scared like she hadn't been since the very first time she had been brought to a visit there. Back then, it was because she had no idea what would have happened to her. Now, on the other hand, she knew well what was going to happen next.

" _Tu as maigri, de nouveau._ " Said the head nurse, standing in front of her with her hands on her hips.

Exactly what she had been expecting. She lowered her head, embarrassed, and replied: " _Je le sais, mais--_ "

" _Pas d'excuses._ " She interrupted her, pointing towards the medical scale in front of them. Without making a sound, Françoise nodded and obeyed the order, keeping her hands and forearms on her chest. The head nurse reached her, and checked the scale.

"Since last time, she has lost two more pounds. That's about one kilo." The woman proclaimed, and another nurse standing a few steps away from them took notes. "You didn't eat your meat, last night?"

"No, I wasn't hungry."

"And who ate it, then?"

"The other two. They seemed hungry, so I told them they could have my dish."

The nurse gave her a glare, then asked: "They didn't steal your dinner from you, did they?"

"No, absolutely not." Françoise replied, shaking her head. "I gave them my dish, and they gave me theirs. But I ate, I promise."

The woman gave her a glare, then let out a sigh. "Take note, then." She then said, and like before the same nurse wrote it down on her clipboard. "Now go seat at the table, we need to get some blood."

"Yes." The other replied, nodding. She got off the scale, took the coat of her uniform and put it on her shoulders, then reached the table walking slowly. She sat down and extended her arm, and waited for the nurses to finish carrying out their preparations.

" _C'est pas bon, que tu ne manges pas assez._ " The head nurse said, almost distractedly, while tying the tourniquet around Françoise's left arm.

" _J'essaie, je le jure..._ " She replied, looking away when the woman started to prepare the needle.

" _Tu va avoir des problèmes si tu continues comme ça, tu piges?_ "

Françoise nodded.

" _Au moins, manges-tu trois fois par jour?_ "

" _Oui, chaque jour._ " Françoise answered, clutching and opening her left hand.

The woman stood in complete silence while cleaning her arm. " _Dis-moi la vérité, ont-ils volé ton repas?_ " She then asked. " _S'ils te traitent méchamment, tu n'as pas à les protéger._ "

" _Non, absolument non. Vous avez rien à vous soucier, M.me Mayniel._ " Françoise replied. " _Au contraire, ils sont très gentils avec moi._ "

" _Tous les deux?_ "

" _Oui. J'aime être avec eux, c'est la première fois depuis longtemps que je me sens en paix._ "

She gave her a smile. " _C'est bon. Tiens-toi immobile pendant un moment..._ "

Françoise felt a prickling on her arm and keeping her eyes averted, exchanging looks with another nurse standing to her side and waiting until it was done.

" _Fini._ We're done." The chief nurse announced, while another applied a small dressing to the other's arm.

"Does it hurt?" Another nurse asked.

"No..." Françoise answered. "It stings a bit, but nothing too bad."

"When you're feeling better come to the bed, so we can finish the visit."

"Yes." She replied while holding together the hems of her jacket with her free hand.

" _Tu te sens plus calme, avec eux?_ " Ms. Mayniel casually asked, taking Françoise by surprise.

" _...oui._ " She eventually replied, still a bit confused. After straightening her expression, she went on: " _C'est un peu étrange, c'est vrai, et je suis encore un peu nerveuse, j'ai jamais partagé une chambre avec quelqu'un qui n'est pas un parent après... mais ils sont très gentils avec moi, ils prennent soin de moi._ "

" _Y n'a-t-il vraiment pas de problème avec eux?_ "

" _Absolument non. Le gars americain est un peu étrange parfois... mais à part ça, j'ai rien à redire. Dans ces deux jours, j'ai dormi si bien..._ "

The nurse widened her eyes. " _Vraiment?_ "

Françoise nodded. _"Comme un loir._ "

" _Ça fait longtemps, des que tu m'as dit ça. Et c'est très importante, je dois l'écrire dans le rapport._ "

" _Oui, pas de problème._ " She replied.

"She just told me that, since the cohabitation experiment started, she has managed to sleep well and without problem." The nurse announced, turning towards the nurse with the clipboard. When the woman had finished writing down what she had been told, the head nurse looked at Françoise again. "Feeling better now?"

She nodded.

"Good. You can stand up and go to lay on the examination table now."

Françoise stood up, put the jacket of her uniform back on the chair and headed for the table. She sat down on it and waited, as the nurses carried out the rest of the physical examination. To pass the time she listed in her mind what visits she would have gone through in the next minutes, and in which order. She guessed them all correctly - they checked her vitals, then her abdomen, her breathing and her limbs, and finally asked if she was ready for the gynecological control. The women followed the same precise list of orders, each and every single time.

After that, the women moved away from the table. "Good, we almost finished. Sit up when you're feeling better." Mayniel said.

"Almost?" Françoise asked, sitting up. When she did, she saw how one of the nurses had passed the head nurse a syringe.

"Yes, a vitamin shot." The woman said. "If you're not going to eat, we need to get some in your body, somehow." She explained, almost dispassionately.

Françoise didn't say a word and stood still. The woman got to her right and, with a quick and precise gesture, gave her the shot and moved away. " _Ça va piquer un peu._ " She then said.

" _Oui, je le sens..._ " She replied, massaging her right arm.

"Now we're done. Get off the table when you feel like it, and go get dressed." The woman said, stepping away.

"Yes." She answered. She took a few moments, then climbed off the bed. She gave a look at the nurses, standing a few steps away from her and talking under their breath, then took her underwear and her uniform, and walked behind the screen on the other side of the room, to change back into her clothes.

When she was done she walked back in front of the screen. "I'm ready." She announced.

"Alright, stay there." The head nurse said before walking towards the door, opening and walking out. "We're done with the visit, doctor." She said, loud enough her voice could be heard inside the room as well.

"All exams and tests done?" Gilmore asked back.

"We took care of everything, as usual. Please come inside."

Gilmore walked in, and the head nurse closed door behind herself. "Physically speaking she's healthy: all of her organic parts have no problems whatsoever - lungs, heart, stomach, muscles and so forth, and all the analysis show that all of her main values are in the norm. However, she keeps on losing weight and not eating properly."

When she was finished talking, Gilmore was approached by another nurse who gave him the clipboard she had been holding. He took the paper and started to read through it right where he was. For the whole time he was taken by the document none of the women in the room dared to say a word, afraid that they could have bothered him. Seeing the overly-tense look on the head nurse's face, Françoise exchanged a look with a couple of the nurses standing next to her, one of which couldn't help letting out a small chuckle.

"I see." He eventually said, without taking his eyes off the papers. It happened so suddenly, it snapped Françoise and the nurses back to reality. "Have you been having any physical problems since last time we met, 003?"

"Huh... n-no." She replied, stuttering a bit.

"Nothing at all to report? Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'm sure."

"Then what's the problem with your meals? I had been told that in the last couple of weeks you haven't been finishing what we brought you. We hoped that in the last couple of days you had started eating properly again, but according to what I just read it doesn't seem to be the case." He said, finally looking up from the sheet.

"Uhm, yes... I haven't been very hungry, recently. You serve me a lot of food." Françoise answered.

"It's not a lot. Those meals are planned out and prepared specifically for you, according to your body's needs." Gilmore replied. "If you're not used to eating that much due to your previous habits you should learn to, or you could start feeling ill. You're not here to dance anymore, you must eat properly."

In response she nodded, silently. That wasn't the reason why she hadn't been eating, but she was sure that if she had said anything about it he would have wanted to inquire about it, and she didn't want to have to talk about the matter more than she already had done.

After seeing her reply, Gilmore looked back down at the paper again. "If you're done, we can go." He said before casually turning her his back, still concentrated on the sheets.

"Yes, we're ready." Mayniel announced as a nurse headed for the door and opened it.

"Good. Follow me." Gilmore said as he lowered the papers and started walking. In silence, Françoise walked behind him, followed only by the head nurse. Once they were all outside the room a couple of armed guards joined the small group as well and kept next to them until they had reached the laboratory, a couple of corridors away.

Gilmore opened the door and entered. After waiting for the two women to be in as well, he closed the door and walked to the operating table. Françoise reached him, sat up on the table and slightly bowed her head, then waited.

The man and the woman walked around the room for a few minutes to finish the preparations, and finally they both reached her next to table. Suddenly, she felt his fingers on her scalp, and prepared herself as he started to attach wires to her.

"Does it hurt?" He asked after plugging the first cable in.

"No." She replied.

"If it hurts, tell me." He said before going on and attaching the remaining cables.

"It feels a bit strange, like it's..." Françoise stopped for a moment, looking for the word. "Like I had ants walking on my head, for a moment."

Hearing that description, the head nurse let out a small chuckle. "It tingles, or itches, you probably meant to say." She commented. "But it's not hurting, is it?"

"No. It's strange, but not painful."

"I see." Gilmore replied. "If it starts hurting, tell us."

"Yes, but don't worry, it's the same feeling as usual." She said, and for the rest of the preparations she stood calm and silent.

"Done." Gilmore then said out loud, warning her. "Is there anything you need to say or point out before I start running the equipment?"

"No, please go on."

"Are you sure you don't want to lay on your stomach on the table?" The head nurse asked.

"Yes, I breathe better when I'm sitting, instead of being down on the table." Françoise said.

"I see." The other woman commented.

"And besides that, it's better for our experiment; that way she can look around more easily." Gilmore said as he took off his sunglasses and put them in a pocket. He then turned towards Françoise: "So, 003, if you're sure."

"I am. You can start whenever you want."

"Okay. Three, two, one, zero." He said, and everything around Françoise disappeared all of a sudden.

When she came to, a bit later, she could realize that some time had passed since the moment she had lost consciousness, but had no idea how long. She waited until she felt a strange sensation, almost a discharge, running through her head, after which she started to hear some noises, at first muddled but more and more clear.

"Any reactions?"

"She straightened her back, doctor."

"I see. 003, if you can hear us, open your eyes."

Hearing Gilmore's voice Françoise did as he was asking, but there was only pitch black in front of her.

"She opened her eyes."

"Good. Now, 003, try to concentrate on some particular noise coming from outside the room, like you would do during training."

She received that order, and immediately did as she was asked: after a moment of confusion she managed to focus on only one noise in particular, in the form of a conversation between two guards walking down one of the nearby corridors. They were just doing small talk about how heavy the shifts were on that week, but their words were clear and in a language she could understand.

"Perfect, the auditory system works fine. Next, it's your eyes. Close them, 003."

Françoise complied, and she felt that strange sensation all over, once again.

"Good. Now open your eyes, slowly."

She did as she was asked, and a sudden flash of light blinded her. Instinctively, she tried to cover her face with her arm, but she couldn't move a muscle, so she closed her eyes again.

"She's blinking, doctor."

"She's bothered by the light, that's all. Take the time you need, 003."

When she tried to open her eyes again, Françoise noticed that the head nurse had put her hand in front of her face, to cover them. Little by little, blinking repeatedly and with Mayniel's help, Françoise managed to get used to the light that surrounded her.

"She has opened her eyes for good now." Françoise heard, and she could finally see the face of Ms. Mayniel a few inches away from hers.

"Good. Now, 003, focus on what's behind the wall in front of you."

Before Gilmore had even finished saying those words Françoise had activated her x-ray vision, and the figures of the people walking in the hallway outside the room were right in front of her eyes. She then concentrated on the wall behind them, until she had a clear view of the people in the room on the opposite side of the corridor.

"Okay, that works perfectly as well. You can stop focusing whenever you want." Gilmore said, and Françoise was more than happy to comply. There was about a minute or so of complete silence on the man's part, while the nurse stood patiently at her side, checking on her every reaction.

"We're done." Gilmore said, finally. "I will shut down everything so I can disconnect you, when you're ready blink three times."

He finished speaking, and Françoise did as she was asked.

"She blinked three times, doctor." The nurse warned Gilmore.

"Alright, I'm going. So, three, two, one, zero." The man said, and once again everything around her came to an abrupt stop. When she came to, the first thing she saw were the neon light on the ceiling, a sign she was laying on the operating table on her back. She moved her arm to shield her eyes, and this time actually managed to do it.

"She's awake, doctor." The nurse said, and Françoise heard the noise of heavy footsteps getting closer to her. The time to get used to the light again, and she stretched her arms and legs and sat up on the table. She instinctively put her hands behind her head, where the wires had been connected up to then, and touched it.

"How are you feeling?" Gilmore asked as he walked in front of her.

"Good." Françoise answered. "My head feels light, but it's already going away."

"It's normal, we just finished testing. Lay down for another while, if you need." The man replied.

"Thank you, but I'm alright now." She then said while slowly moving around and getting down from the table. When she was on her feet she stretched her arms and back, as if she had just woken up from a nap.

"It's already gone, then?" He inquired.

"Yes." Françoise nodded.

Gilmore nodded in silence, looking lost in thought. "Anything else you need to point out?" He eventually asked.

"No, I feel fine."

"I see..." The man commented. "In that case the visit is complete. However, before dismissing you, I need to check one last thing with your implants."

That sentence took Françoise and the nurse by surprise, as they both turned their heads towards him almost at the same time, the same confused expression on their faces.

Despite having their sights on himself, Gilmore didn't even flinch. "It will only take a couple minutes 003, I promise. I won't be cutting or opening anything. You won't have to get undressed either, it's going to be a simple quick check." He then turned towards the head nurse. "However, it's an important detail which I cannot show to unauthorized people."

"Oh, I see..." She commented.

"I understand..." Françoise calmly said.

"In that case, I think I'm done here for today." The other woman told Gilmore.

"Well then. See you next time, madame Mayniel." He replied.

"See you, then. _À bientôt_." The nurse replied, nodding. Françoise gave her a smile, then the other woman turned around and silently walked out the room.

When the door had clicked closed, sure that her and Gilmore were alone in the room, Françoise started to speak: "Where should I take a seat, doctor?"

"There's no need for that, 003. I just need to ask you a couple questions."

"A couple questions?" She repeated, surprised.

"I lied about the check." He replied. "It's just a question between you and me, and I need you to be honest when you'll answer."

"What is it about?" Françoise asked.

"If we were to further modify you and add more mechanical parts to your body, like giving you bulletproof skin, how would you react?"

That question left Françoise speechless. She just stared at Gilmore, her eyes wide open. Seeing her like that, the man walked to his desk and took a hold of a thick book. "Wait a moment 003, let me rephrase that... now, where's that word... 'bon', 'bud'..." He said as he opened it and skimmed through its pages.

"N-No, I understood what you said." She replied. "I was just surprised to hear you ask me something like that..."

Gilmore slammed the book closed and put it back on the desk. "What do you mean?"

"It's the fact that you're asking me what I would think of that... I mean, it's not like I have any choice about what you're going to do..." She answered in a low, shaky voice.

After hearing her reply, Gilmore averted her sight for an instant. "But if you had a choice, what would you answer?" He said when he was looking at her again.

"I would hate it." Françoise said, firmly.

"So, if you were to give an answer it would be negative, am I right?"

"What are you going to do to me next?" She asked, anxiously.

"First answer me: would you refuse?"

"Of course!" She almost shouted. "I don't want to be turned even more into a machine! I don't want to become like 004, I..." Her voice faltered, and she lowered her head. She was horrified with herself: had she really just talked about him in that dismissive manner, using him as a negative comparison? "I don't want you to do what you did to him to anyone else... I don't want to."

When he was sure she didn't have anything else to say, Gilmore replied: "If that can make you feel better, know that we had good reasons for doing that to him. And we haven't planned to modify your body any further."

Despite having heard those words loud and clear, they didn't make Françoise feel better in the slightest. She didn't react, and kept her head down.

"And we're definitely not going to turn your body into something like 004's. Talking about which, you mentioning him means that you saw the extent of his modifications. How did that happen?"

She slowly raised her head to look at him. "He told us, and showed his arm."

Gilmore stood silent and still for a few moments, until he moved his hand to his pocket and picked his sunglasses out of them. "I see." He commented as he put them on. "In that case, we're done. And please don't say a word about what we just talked about to anyone."

"I won't." Françoise said. Only after she had replied she realized just how strange it was to hear the man ask her to 'please' don't talk about their conversation to anyone.

"Now let's go." The man said while walking past her and reaching the door. With some hesitation, Françoise followed him, waited for him to open the door and walked out.

"Sorry for making you wait." Gilmore apologized to the guards waiting outside in a deadpan voice before closing the door behind himself.

Gilmore walked in front of Françoise while two guards walked at her sides and held her by her arms, then with a gesture told them to follow him.

The group finally reached the room. The guards waiting in front of the cell saluted Gilmore, then opened the door, while the men that had carried her there pushed her past the doorstep. Once inside, her sight immediately met 002 and 004's, both sitting at the table. When the guards let go of her arms she raised her hands, and walked inside.

She reached the one free chair and sat down, her head hanging low, and waited in silence until the door was closed. "Your breakfast will be here in a couple minutes." Gilmore then said through the window before closing it and completely closing off the room from any noise coming from outside.

_'Welcome back, 003.'_

"Hello, all of you." Françoise said, still looking down to the floor.

"Are you alright?" Jet then asked.

"Yes." She replied. In reality all she wanted was to go lay on the bed, covers pulled over her head, until that feeling went away. It was always like that, after a visit - having the nurses visit her following that routine, like they would have done to any normal person, somehow made her feel better. Having them touch her stomach, chest, back and limbs in the same manner her old doctor used to do back when she was home reminded her she was still human, mostly - and then there were the chatting, and the occasional jokes, and the generally much more relaxed atmosphere. But then, every single time, she had to go through that other part of the visit, the one to her head, and that small illusion was always shattered. And this time Gilmore had to ask her that question, too...

"Did something happen?" Albert inquired.

She shook her head.

"Really?" He asked again, pointedly.

Françoise breathed in slowly to calm down, and tried to look up at him, but it felt like there was something that prevented her from moving her neck. She knew all too well what the problem was - she felt too ashamed to look at him in the face, after what she had just said about him. "I'm just a bit tired and weak." She decided to reply.

"I see..." Albert said. "I'm sure that after eating something you will feel better."

"Yeah, that's right..." Jet commented.

"Yes..." She added.

 _'Tell him, 003.'_ 001's voice resounded in her head. _'Get it off your chest.'_

In response Françoise looked up, deciding to focus her attention on 002, just in case and for the moment. "Anyway, how have you been doing so far?" She asked, finally.

"Alright." Jet answered. "We talked with 001 about what's going on. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

"Busy?" She repeated.

_'Yes, tomorrow some guests will arrive to this facility, and they should be visiting you and 004--'_

While Ivan was explaining them, he was suddenly interrupted by the noise of the window of the door noisily opening, and everyone's attention turned on one of the guards, warning them that they had brought something to eat for 003.

"Stay there, I'll take it." Albert offered, standing up from his seat. He headed for the door and walked back with the tray, which he put in front of Françoise.

"Thank you." She said, turning her head towards him for only an instant, then focusing on the food in front of herself.

 _'Sorry to run away like this, but I think right now Gilmore is alone, and I need to have a talk with him about what's going on.'_ Ivan said. _'Could you two explain 003 what's happening? I'll be back as soon as I can.'_

"Oh, okay." Albert replied.

Jet shrugged, a grimace on his face. "Whatever, do what you prefer."

"Don't mind him, and take your time." Albert intervened. "If what you said is true, we won't have much time together tomorrow."

 _'Well then, later.'_ Ivan said. After that, another few sentences resounded in Françoise's mind: _'I don't want to push you, or make you feel under pressure, so I'll leave you for the moment. But tell him, he won't get angry, don't worry.'_

"Alright, see you later." She eventually replied.

"I think he's already gone by now." Albert said. Hearing his words, Françoise realized that her answer must have come out very delayed, which meant that his last few words were really only directed at her, just like the suggestion he had given her before that. The realization made her feel more calm, so she raised her head and looked in his face.

"Yes, you're right. I'm just a bit lost right now, sorry." She said, waving her hand in front of her face.

Albert smiled back. "Don't worry. Eat something, it will help."

Françoise nodded, and looked at the food in front of her - a couple of slices of bread with butter and marmelade, a mug of coffee and two oranges - then back up at Jet. "Do you want something? I'm not finishing it." She said.

Jet shook his head. "We already ate. But you're really not finishing that? It's not much."

"Yes, but it's a bit late, and if I eat everything now I don't think I will finish lunch." She explained.

Albert and Jet looked at each other in silence, then back at her.

"Are you sure?" Albert then asked.

"Yes, I promise... it's a bit late, and they gave me a lot of stuff..." She replied, a clearly forced smile on her face. Realizing it, she decided to put a more natural, more serious expression on. "I'm just not in the mood to eat a lot at the moment. That's it."

When she was done speaking, Jet took one of the oranges from the tray and started to peel it. "Are you still nervous about the visit?" He then asked, calmly.

Françoise took the mug of coffee and calmly sipped from it, then replied: "Well, I am a bit nervous, in general..."

"It's absolutely normal to feel like that, don't worry." Albert commented.

When he had finished peeling the orange, Jet opened it and passed a couple of slices to Françoise. She hesitated for a couple moments, staring at him, but finally took the piece of fruit. Jet then ate a slice himself and offered another to Albert, who refused with a gesture.

She turned the slices in her hand and looked at them, as if she had never seen something like that before. It was clear that they had understood what was going on with her, and that they were worried about her, she had realized it even before they had said so out loud. She didn't want to be even more of a hassle for them than she already was, but if she went on like this, she would have become a real problem for them. After the way they had taken care of her in these days, this was the least she could do - or, at least, try to do.

As she found that resolve, she realized that the silence between them had started to become really heavy and unpleasant. She had to say something to change argument. "Anyway... 002, can I ask you a favor, if it's not a problem for you?"

Jet looked at her. "Sure. A-As long as it's not some kind of women's problem, I have no idea--"

She chuckled. "No, don't worry about that. I just wanted to know if you can teach me how to talk better... especially my accent, I'd love to improve it."

After a moment of surprise, he replied: "Yes, of course, if you want to. But you already speak very well, really."

"You think? I'm afraid I can be hard to understand at times."

"No, at all." He replied.

"I don't have any problem understanding you, either." Albert answered. "The only thing I could say something about is your 'r', but I'm the last person that should complain about that."

"Yeah, I think your accent is fine as it is. If anything, yours is probably easier to understand than mine." Jet said, passing her another couple slices of orange.

"Really? I didn't even notice you had an accent, I can understand you well." She answered. "Sometimes, when you start speaking too fast, but that's all."

"I know, the doctors too say they can't understand me when I do that, because of my natural accent. With them I do it on purpose when I can, but with you and 004 I try to speak slowly and clearly."

"On purpose?" Albert asked.

"They annoy me, so I return the favor."

"Talking about the doctors, what did 001 say about tomorrow?" Françoise asked before eating the orange slices.

* * *

It had taken a while before Gilmore could finally reach his room - before that, he had had to check if all preparations were coming along properly with all other doctors, including Whisky. He also stopped by Brown's room, to wake up the man before it was afternoon, and while he was at it he dropped by the cafeteria and quickly ate lunch.

Only when he no longer had any excuses to postpone that, he finally and reluctantly headed to his room. All he had to do was to go there and put the sheets with the data regarding 003's exam on his desk, but he knew that 001 would have been there, waiting for him, so he tried to delay the inevitable for as much as he could. He didn't feel at his best that day, thanks also to the harsh awakening that morning and the amount of work he had already done, and dealing with him was the very last thing he needed. But then again, maybe there was something he had to ask that brat, so... He just hoped he would have been able to keep a cool head.

So, after warning his colleagues that he would have taken a twenty minutes break, he went to his room. He closed the door, headed for his desk and put the papers with 003's data in a drawer. As soon as he had closed it, as punctual as he had expected, 001's voice reached him.

_'Busy morning, isn't it?'_

"Do you even have to ask? I know you can find out by yourself." He felt satisfied by that reply - sarcastic, but not openly so. And most important, sure of himself without being too smug.

_'I heard some rumors, yes. Tomorrow we're going to have guests, but from the sound of it I'm not going to meet them.'_

"Of course not." For a moment his tone had betrayed some annoyance, but hopefully he had managed to keep it under wraps well enough. He then turned around and decided to go sit down on his armchair; this looked like it would have taken a while.

_'For once I really can't blame you for that, kids my age can be a real handful. What if I start crying, or need to have my diaper changed while you're having an important conversation?'_

"I thought someone like you would have been above this kind of jokes." Gilmore replied, sneeringly, as he sat down. "But the visit should last only one day. Hopefully."

 _'Only one? Good.'_ Ivan answered. _'But just because I won't be around, don't you dare thinking of doing anything to my friends.'_

"Are you already calling them friends? Fun." He commented. As he spoke, he remembered that there was something he needed to ask 001 about them. Good thing he had reminded him, right now his mind was busy with too many things. He could have almost thanked him for that. "By the way, talking about them, I need to have the microphones switched on for a while, Brown wants to hear some of the recordings."

 _'Okay. Starting when?'_ Ivan replied, promptly.

"This afternoon, if possible. Tomorrow they might not be together for long."

_'What are you going to do with them?'_

"Just have them visited by the guests, if they want to see the results of our research. They're not going to operate on them, if that's what you're afraid of."

_'Just remember that if you're lying, I'm going to make you pay for it.'_

"Sure, whatever you want." He replied, flatly. He wished he could have seen 001's face, when he threatened him like that. It must have been adorable.

_'And who are these people coming here?'_

"No idea, we haven't received anything regarding them yet." Gilmore answered.

_'So you really hadn't been warned that they would have arrived...'_

"No. Apparently someone sent some information to Black Ghost and they didn't take it well, so they organized this sudden visit."

_'You think they organized the visit just to spite you? I don't understand it.'_

Gilmore let out a small chortle. "Since when does the idea of doing something just to bother someone surprise you? Isn't that your whole thing?"

_'Well, I imagined that the bosses of a place like this would be less petty than a small child.'_

Gilmore laughed, again. If that was supposed to be a joke, it was actually amusing. "I envy your innocence, at times."

_'So you think they did that just to bother you.'_

"I don't think that, I'm sure of it. As much as I'm sure that I know who sent them that information."

_'Really? And who is it?'_

Gilmore sneered. "You sure have nerve, acting so clueless with me."

There were some seconds of silence before Ivan replied. _'Are you implying it was me?'_

"No, I'm asking you straight out: did you send that information to Black Ghost?"

_'No, I didn't. First, I don't know what information you're talking about, and how would I even be able to do that?'_

"It's the easiest thing in the world for you, to communicate with someone else, no matter how far away."

_'I can communicate with people only when I know where they are. Not even you or your superiors know where Skull and the people above him are right now.'_

"Don't make me laugh. I'm sure that finding out about them and where they are isn't going to take you a lot of effort."

_'Just what kind of abilities do you think I have?'_

"Bigger than the ones you pretend to have." Gilmore spat back. "After all, I know more about your powers than anyone else working here does. And I'm sure you're hiding much, much more than that."

 _'I'll give you that, you're right about that last part.'_ Ivan replied after letting some seconds pass. _'But you're completely wrong about everything else. I wouldn't be able to find out where Skull is, definitely not from here.'_

"You could have simply overheard the information from me and Brown, then passed it to someone who sent it to the headquarters." He replied, realizing he sounded like he was looking for pretests - which he was, since he didn't want to leave him the last word. He could only go on and keep up the act.

_'And who do you think that someone is? I don't care for most people in this place, you know.'_

"I'm sure you don't. But I'm also sure you know all about alliances of convenience, don't you?"

_'Nice retort, I have to admit.'_

"You're still talking to me, after all. So I wouldn't be surprised if right now you were collaborating with someone else behind my back, just to do something to spite me..." Gilmore went on. Up to that point he had just rambled, but all of a sudden he had a realization. "You have all reasons to be angry with me, after how I acted with your friends yesterday... and for everything else, of course. Yes, admittedly, I deserve what you're putting me through with this."

_'Oh, don't worry about that, Gilmore, you are going to pay for what you did to them, and not only yesterday. Obviously I'm not going to tell you how or when, but you will get what's coming to you. And it will be big, not just something that's going to cause some minor inconvenience at worst, like tomorrow's visit.'_

"This isn't your doing? Really?" He laughed, trying to affect as much coolness as he could. 001's words had managed to get under his skin for a moment, but he had to keep that to himself, both in his actions and in his thoughts, as much as he could. "Strange, I would have sworn the opposite. You could have done all of this without problem, since you have connections to someone else very important in our team."

Again, it took some time for Ivan to reply. _'What are you trying to say?'_

"That maybe your excuse for starting to talk to me was just a pretext all along. Maybe you don't even actually consider those three your friends, and you're just using them for some other escape plan you have set up with that someone else. Am I wrong, Ivan Gamovich?"

Gilmore finished speaking, and there was complete silence for a few seconds. He couldn't help smiling to himself, feeling happy to have managed to not only shut 001 up, but also to have finally understood what he was actually all about. He leaned back against the headrest, when all of a sudden he felt something was off. It took him a few moments to fully understand what it was, but finally he realized it - his feet weren't touching the ground any longer. He looked down, and saw that the armchair he was sitting on was floating in mid air.

 _'What did you just call me?'_ 001's usually flat, deadpan voice now sounded deeper, almost terrifyingly so, as if he was actually speaking out loud. It must have been his nerves, Gilmore told himself, just a trick of his imagination. 001 couldn't actually talk, he couldn't do that.

"Put me down, now!" He tried to make his voice sound commanding, but couldn't manage to hit the right note. Before he could try to repeat those words in a firmer tone, something hit him on the forehead.

After recovering from the shock and the confusion, Gilmore grabbed onto the arms of the chair and looked down at the floor, where the object that had just struck him had fallen. He recognized it was one of the binders he had left on his desk last evening, and turned his head to look in the direction of the table. As he raised his sight he noticed that quite a few objects from various parts of the room where in the air as well, floating around him.

"001... Ivan, stop this now..."

_'Take that back! Take that back, and what you said about me and my friends! I would never betray them, keep that in mind!'_

A part of Gilmore would have wanted to retort something about how fun it was to see him react like that, and sarcastically point out that a reaction like that was as clear a confirmation of what he had said as he could have ever hoped for, but he felt too scared to even talk. Then, suddenly, something else hit him on the back of his head - a book, he noticed when he looked down.

_'Never, ever, ever call me that again!'_

"I... you..."

_'Take it back!'_

Then every object started to move faster and faster, until everything flew in circle around him, going at a visibly higher speed with every turn.

"Ivan, stop... успокой!" Gilmore said, suddenly too scared to think straight. He gestured forward, instinctively; his hand was spread open, as if trying to tell someone in front of him to wait, and that sudden movement caused him to lose balance. He fell off the armchair and on the floor, face first.

At the impact, pain shoot through his whole body. It hadn't been too high a fall, but he hadn't even had the time to realize it, and hadn't been able to brace himself for it. He turned his head to look up, and saw all the floating objects, including the armchair, still above him, threatening to fall on him at any second. He tried to stand up, or at least move on his fours, but found out he couldn't - whether it was the pain or just the fear freezing him he couldn't tell, definitely not in that moment. He attempted to drag himself away a few steps, but he couldn't move a limb without his body hurting all over.

"Прости, I take it back! Я не хотел этого говорить, простите..." Words poured out of his mouth without him even realizing, out of pure fear, as he covered his head with his arms.

Nothing happened for a few long seconds, not even the smallest sound. Gilmore slowly moved his arms away and looked up, then around himself: all objects were slowly moving and reaching the ground, without making any noise.

_'Иди к чёрту.'_

"Ivan..." He mumbled, but received no reply. Moving slowly and carefully, he eventually managed to stand back up on his feet. He tried to walk towards the place where 001 had put down his armchair, and winced with almost every step he took. Once he reached it he turned it back on its feet, with a lot of effort and pain, and sat down on it again.

"Ivan?" He repeated, and again no answer. He waited some more time and finally allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief. It was over, he was gone.

As he calmed down and his mind slowly got clearer, he started laughing at himself. What the hell had gotten into him, taunting 001 in that manner? He knew that he was capable of doing something like that, he had been present and witnessed it in the past, what the heck was he expecting?

He had really gotten himself into a fine mess, hadn't he? Thankfully all he had needed to do was apologize - at least only for the moment, but he didn't want to think about what would have happened after today. The perspective of having crossed a line with someone like Ivan made him uneasy, for many reasons. But now he just wanted to relax, and wait until the pain wore off.

Still, he did deserve what had happened. He had really messed things up: he had promised himself he would have kept his cool, just asked Ivan about whether or not he had anything to do with Black Ghost's sudden decision and teased him, just not to give him the satisfaction to get the last word. That should have been all, and instead he had kept on insisting, and had gone way too far. Great job, really.

But wait, why was he feeling bad about what had just happened, now? It had been 001 who had decided to intrude, _he_ was the one who should have expected not to be treated like a guest. And that little tantrum he had had as soon as he had found himself cornered, going so far as hurting and threatening him... yes, there was nothing he had to feel bad about how he had acted with that little indisponent brat.

No, wait, there was a problem. What if, after this, 001 decided to mess around with the microphones in the room with the other three cyborgs? He had to record at least a couple of hours of them talking together, or Brown and everyone else would have found out that there was something going on.

Then again, was it really an issue? If they found out what had been happening between him and 001, they would have also put an end to it. Sure, he would have had to deal with some disciplinary punishment for not having told them earlier and going along with that - but 001 had been forcing and threatening him, it wasn't _completely_ his fault. Yes, if things had really gone that way he would have gotten him off his back, finally and for good. Good riddance.

Some more time passed, and Gilmore found himself feeling awful for what he had just thought, and for the words he had told Ivan. He let out a long sigh and stood up from the armchair, finally feeling less sore, and started to pick up the stuff that the kid had thrown around. He would have thought another time about how he actually felt about this, now there was still a lot of work to carry out before tomorrow. Thankfully, with Brown awake, his workload would have been less heavy.

* * *

By now at least ten minutes had passed, and he wasn't feeling sleeping or tired. Good.

What was less good was the way he had fallen for Gilmore's provocation, and the way he had reacted to it. What an idiot he had been.

Replying to him like he had just done, by telling him he would have paid for everything, one day... really an idiot. And his overreaction after that... Gilmore would have never helped him again. Now it was sure he wasn't going to get out of the isolation room after tomorrow. Of course Gilmore would have never wanted to run the risk of going through what had just happened again.

But what was he supposed to do? He had started to talk about his friends like that, and bring up what he had done to them in that irritatingly casual manner... how could he have kept calm, in those circumstances? And he had been way too close to completely lose control, and overuse his powers. If that had happened he would have fallen asleep like he usually did after an effort like that, and right now he couldn't afford to run that risk. He couldn't leave them on their own, not right after what he had done to Gilmore.

He had no idea how that man would have reacted, but it wasn't going to be pretty. And now that he had shown him just how much he was invested in them, there was no way he wouldn't have tried to pull something against them as a petty revenge. Falling asleep meant leaving his friends in the clutches of that man, alone, and he couldn't afford that. Sure, after this he would have been locked in the noise room for the rest of his time there, but even from there he could have still been able to try something - if he had fallen asleep, on the other hand...

So, not everything was lost yet. Good.

After repeating that to himself another few times, to calm himself down, he decided to go and check on the other three, back in their room. And possibly pass some time with them, he needed to relax now, and be positive. He would have thought about everything else tomorrow - he would have had all the time and tranquillity to do so, after all. He concentrated, and immediately felt relieved when he could hear their thoughts in his mind.

_'Hi, am I disturbing?'_

"Oh, 001! Welcome back!" Françoise greeted him.

"Hello." Albert replied. "And no, you're not disturbing. We just finished having lunch, and 002 was explaining 003 what happened that other time they had invited those professors. How about you? Anything new?"

_'Yes. First of all, I need to tell you that there's a small problem: Gilmore needs to have the microphones switched on for a while today, and possibly tomorrow, too. He must record you talking for a while, otherwise the others could get suspicious about what's going on.'_

"Have they already started? I can't feel them working..." She asked.

_'No, they're still switched off right now. I messed around with them to keep them from working, remember? As soon as you feel ready, I'll let them work properly.'_

"Thank you for warning us, then." Albert said.

"You can even decide when the microphones in this room work or not, huh..." Jet commented sarcastically. "Makes me wonder _where_ they are keeping you..."

 _'In one of the labs.'_ Ivan calmly replied. _'I don't have access to the machines that make the microphones and the recording system work, but I know where they are, and with my powers can do what I want to them.'_

"Your powers..." Jet repeated. "If you can do that, then why don't you just use your powers to blow up something and run away from here while everyone freaks out?"

_'I wouldn't be able to do that. If I tried to escape, it would be very easy for them to spot me, find me and bring me back. And besides, I'm not leaving this place without you.'_

"Sure..."

"Stop acting like that, 002." Albert replied. "You're asking questions, he's giving you answers."

"He doesn't convince me."

"A-Anyway, 001, did anything else happen? Did you manage to find out something else about the people coming here tomorrow?" Françoise intervened, clearly trying to change argument.

_'No, sadly. Not even Gilmore knows who they are yet, and that's weird. I'm starting to think that he's right about this whole thing being just something to spite him and some other doctors, at least in part.'_

"Should we be worried?" She asked.

 _'I don't think so. But I don't think they would do something bad to any of you, they need you alive and well.'_ At least, he really hoped so.

"Yes. And if this is really something between the doctors, I don't think the three of us have anything to worry about." Albert replied.

"Right." Françoise answered. "Anyway, what are we going to do, when the microphones are switched on?"

"No idea. But I know what I'm _not_ talking about." Jet replied.

"But we can't just keep silent the whole time..." She commented.

"How about you pretend you're practicing English, then?" Albert asked. "Like you were talking about earlier."

_'That's a good idea.'_

"Yeah, you're right." Jet commented. "A good manner of passing the time, too."

"Yes." She replied. "And if you want, I can give you some French lessons to return the favor."

"Was that an example, or were you making an offer?" Jet asked back.

"Both."

"Can I join in, too?" Albert asked, a hint of playful malice in his voice as well as in his thoughts. "Sounds like it's going to be fun."

"Hey, don't gang up on me! One at the time!" Jet protested. Despite his words, Ivan could feel how he was actually amused by the offer, and couldn't help letting out a chuckle to himself. It made him incredibly happy to hear them enjoy themselves.

 _'I wish I could be part of your little lesson too.'_ He decided to comment.

"And what do you think you can do? Didn't you say you don't even speak a language yet?" Jet asked back, teasingly.

_'You should encourage me, then.'_

"Yes. The more, the merrier." Albert said. "That's how you say it in English, right?"

"I told you to stop!" Jet answered. "And yes, that's how it's said."

Just a few minutes listening to them, and he was already feeling better. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this - real, authentic joy born out of people he liked enjoying themselves, rather than from the anger or annoyance of people he didn't like. He knew he had felt like that in the past, but it was likely before he had that stuff put in his brain.

 _'Anyway, is it a problem if I stay here for another while?'_ He eventually decided to ask.

"If 002 doesn't have anything to say about that..." Albert commented.

"Whatever. It's not like we can kick him out if we want." Jet replied.

"Don't pay attention to his tone, you're welcome." Françoise added.

 _'Thank you.'_ He answered. _'Mind if we start those lessons right now?'_

"Hey!" Jet protested.

"Whenever you want." Albert replied, amused. "But before that and before they turn the microphones on, there's another thing we need to do."

"What?" Françoise asked.

"002, could you please take pen and paper from under the pillow of my bed?"

* * *

When the announcement of the arrival of the three guests on the island had reached everyone, it was literally only ten minutes after the files with their information had finally arrived to the facility. Sending that information through their computer system shouldn't have taken that long, from whatever part of the world Skull and his superiors were in - even sending that message through the telegraph, typing down every single word in the reports in Morse code, would have taken way less time.

The situation was simply ridiculous, and everyone agreed on that, down to a group of janitors he had happened to overhear talking about the situation while walking through the corridors. Still, if there was any doubt that someone in the higher echelons had done all of this just to spite them, this was the most blatant confirmation they could have ever received.

But there really wasn't much any of them could do about it right now: official protests would have had to wait until the day after tomorrow - and even then, they knew they would have been ignored. Now there were more important things to think of, they had to welcome and take care of the three men that had just arrived, and do so as calmly and nonchalantly as they could, to avoid giving away anything.

And so, after he had finished reading through the reports about the guests, he made himself presentable and asked Dressler to go and bring 001 to the noise room - a precaution measure that had been agreed upon by all doctors, to avoid that he could start using his powers during the visit, and expose some secret from the facility. Gilmore made sure everything had been done properly, and he finally got out of his room and calmly reached the main hall of the building, where the men had already been brought to.

Thankfully he wasn't too late, since when he arrived there the three men were still waiting in a corner, with two guards standing next to them.

Finally, as soon as all the doctors that hadn't been asked to keep to their rooms had gathered, Gaia stepped forwards, his arms spread wide and a smile on his face, to greet them. "Good evening, sirs, from the B.G. Medical and Technical Research Team. We hope you had a nice travel."

"Good evening to you, and thanks for the invitation." One of the three men, a clean shaved guy in his thirties, dressed in a sharp suit, said.

"Professor Yacoub from Cairo University, I presume."

"It's indeed me." The man replied, tending the other his hand to shake it. When he was done he moved towards Dressler, who had walked forward and reached Gaia, and shook his hand as well. Meanwhile, the second guest moved forward.

"Professor Bell, pleased to meet you." The man, an elderly looking guy, said before moving on and letting the man behind him do the same.

"Good evening. Professor Kozumi, from Harvard University. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Glad to meet you as well." Gaia replied, shaking his hand. He let go of him, and turned to look as the three greeted the rest of the group. "To all of you, welcome. Now, if there's any question you have, feel free to ask."

Gilmore found himself mechanically walking towards the group, then shaking the hands of the three in rapid succession, without saying anything else. He mentally thanked Gaia for having taken over this duty that, usually, would have fallen to him, but today he felt too tired to even try to say anything more complex than a couple basic platitudes.

"Well then. If we're done with the introductions, I will take you to the cafeteria and show you your rooms, so you can rest for a couple of hours." Gaia then said to the three men. "After that, I will give you a quick preliminary tour of the facility, which we will complete tomorrow morning. Now, if you're all ready..."

As Gaia and the men headed towards a corridor on the other side of the room, Gilmore turned them his back and went in the opposite direction, to the elevators. He had warned everyone he would have done so a few hours before, and nobody seemed to have any issues with it; in fact, most other doctors encouraged him to do so. He still looked slightly shaken and anxious, not to mention clearly still in pain thanks to 001. He hadn't looked at himself in the mirror yet, but he was sure that the bruise on his forehead had already started showing, at least from the way it kept on hurting when he touched that spot. He hadn't even come up with a good excuse as to what had happened, but thankfully nobody had asked him about that yet.

His day was already over, then. As he walked away, he turned his head to the side and looked out of one of the windows: the sun was finishing to set, in no more than fifteen minutes it would have been completely dark outside. He couldn't even remember the last time he had ended his shift this soon in the evening, now that he thought about it.

He took the last few steps that separated him from the elevator, he wondered whether he should have stopped by the infirmary first, to get something for the bruise and a painkiller or two. He eventually decided there was no need, it wasn't anything unbearable. He would have just stopped by Brown's room to wish him a good evening and tell him that everything had proceeded smoothly, then back to his room - the only thing he wanted right now was to go back to his bed and lie down. And now that 001 was in the noise room he knew he could have rested peacefully, like he hadn't in at least a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tu as maigri, de nouveau - You lost weight, again  
> Je le sais, mais... - I know that, but...  
> Pas d'excuses - No excuses
> 
> C'est pas bon, que tu ne manges pas assez - It's not good that you don't eat enough  
> J'essaie, je le jure... - I try, I swear...  
> Tu va avoir des problèmes si tu continues comme ça, tu piges? - You're going to have problems if you go on like this, you get it?  
> Au moins, manges-tu trois fois par jour? - At least, do you eat three times a day?  
> Oui, chaque jour - Yes, every day  
> Dis-moi la vérité, ils n'ont volé ton repas? S'ils te traitent méchamment, tu n'as pas à les protéger - Tell me the truth, did they steal your meal? If they treat you badly, you don't have to protect them  
> Non, absolument non. Vous avez rien à vous soucier, M.me Mayniel. Au contraire, ils sont très gentils avec moi - No, absolutely not. You don't have to worry about anything, Ms. Mayniel. On the contrary, they're very nice with me  
> Tous les deux? - Both of them?  
> Oui. J'aime être avec eux, c'est la première fois depuis longtemps que je me sens en paix- Yes. I love being with them, this is the first time in a while that I feel at peace  
> C'est bon. Tiens-toi immobile pendant un moment... - That's good. Hold still for a moment...
> 
> Tu te sens plus calme, avec eux? - You feel more calm with them?  
> C'est un peu étrange, c'est vrai, et je suis encore un peu nerveuse, j'ai jamais partagé une chambre avec quelqu'un qui n'est pas un parent après... mais ils sont très gentils avec moi, ils prennent soin de moi - It's a bit strange, it's true, and I'm still a bit nervous, I never shared a room with someone that wasn't a relative before... but they're very kind with me, they take care of me  
> Y n'a-t-il vraiment pas de problème avec eux? - There's really no problem at all with them?  
> Absolument non. Le gars americain est un peu étrange parfois... mais à part ça, j'ai rien à redire. Dans ces deux jours, j'ai dormi si bien... - No, at all. The American guy is a bit strange at times... but aside from that, I have nothing to complain about. In these two days I slept so well...  
> Vraiment? - Really?  
> Comme un loir - Like a log  
> Ça fait longtemps, des que tu m'as dit ça. Et c'est très importante, je dois l'écrire dans le rapport - It's been a while since you told me that. It's very important, I have to write it in the report  
> Oui, pas de problème - Yes, no problem
> 
> Ça va piquer un peu - It will sting a bit  
> Oui, je le sens... - Yes, I feel it...
> 
> успокой! - Calm down!  
> Прости. Я не хотел этого говорить, простите... - Sorry. I didn't mean to say that, forgive me...  
> Иди к чёрту - Go to hell


	5. Day 5

The first thing Gilmore saw when he opened his eyes was the clock on his bedside table, telling him that at least fifteen minutes had passed since the alarm had rang, and he had failed to notice it.

Despite that, he didn't react in the same manner as he normally would have; he felt too good and at peace in that moment to be able to muster the slightest amount of anger, even despite the pain he felt all throughout his body. It was only a quarter of an hour, he thought as he got out of bed, he still had enough time to do everything if he hurried up.

He quickly but carefully went through his usual morning preparations, even finding some time to look at himself in the mirror to check if the bruises from the day before looked as bad as they had felt during the night. Relieved by the fact that most of them were in places covered by his clothes, he put on his medical gown and headed out of the room, still in that relatively good mood.

It had been more than a week since the last time he had managed to get a night of sleep as good as that. He had started having issues sleeping a few days before that, as the end of 001's sleep cycle was approaching and he had started dreading the moment he would have woken up. Like every other time this happened, he had started feeling more and more uneasy about it, and that had influenced a lot of his daily routine - which was weird, he couldn't help thinking, since by now he should have gotten used to that situation, he had been dealing with him and his whims for months now.

Then again, it was just natural to be feeling nervous at the idea that the brat would have been following him everywhere he went, checking on anything he did - and sure, 001 could keep on repeating that stuff about not being able to communicate with someone if he didn't know where that person was, but of course that wasn't true. He could read minds as easily as he breathed, finding out the whereabouts of someone or something wasn't difficult for him, even if he pretended otherwise.

But now it didn't matter, since he was safely locked in the noise room for the rest of the day. There wasn't much 001 could have done during the short breaks they had to make him take, so there was nothing to worry about.

At least for that day, he would have had one less thing to make his day worse, Gilmore told himself. Now, if only he could lock him in that damn room whenever he wanted, so he could have completely stopped worrying about him for good. If only.

He got out of the room and headed straight to the cafeteria, to have breakfast. As he walked inside he gave a look at his wristwatch, and found out with relief that he was on time. He saluted back a couple of colleagues that had wished him a good morning, then reached the counter, took his breakfast and headed for the dining hall. Once there he looked among the group of people that had assembled there, until he finally found who he was looking for - the three guests, doctor Gaia and another half dozen colleagues, sitting in front of each other and calmly eating their breakfast while chatting.

He walked in their direction, when Gaia stood up from his seat and called him out. "Oh, doctor Gilmore! What a coincidence, we were just talking about you."

"Good morning, doctor Gaia." He replied before reaching the group. "Morning, Ryan, and to you too, Crofts. And of course to our guests as well." He added as he sat down on the closest free chair, finding himself on the opposite side of the table from Gaia and next to one of the visitors.

He made himself comfortable and started digging in, while the eyes of the guests followed his gestures. Gilmore had noticed the sights of the three men, but decided to ignore them and instead look at Gaia. "What did you tell them, if I can ask?"

"I just introduced you, and explained the reason why yesterday you had to leave us as soon as you did." Gaia replied calmly. "Talking about which, that bruise on your forehead..."

"A binder fell off my bookshelf and hit me." Gilmore explained. "Nothing serious, there's no need to worry about it."

"You should always use a stepping stool when taking something from your bookshelf, you know..." Crofts said.

"Ha ha, fun, but that's not the reason. And I'm not that short." He replied in a flat tone before turning in the direction where the three guests were sitting. "Anyway, sirs, pleased to meet you, and forgive me for not having been able to greet you personally yesterday."

"There's no need to apologize, Mr. Gilmore. Mr. Gaia just explained us about how sudden the situation was for all of you. I hope our visit wasn't too big a hassle for you." The older of the three guests said.

For a moment Gilmore was on the verge of telling him about just how much of a pain their presence was, but decided not to. It was not their fault, after all, and he didn't have anything against those three men, personally. Besides, it would have been better not to sour the atmosphere right away. "No, at all." He replied, shaking his head. "You must be doctor Bell."

"Yes, pleased to meet you." The other replied, extending his arm so he could shake the other's hand. There was a strange expression on his face, as if he was incredulous and strangely happy to see him; that not only confused Gilmore, but also made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

"There's no need to worry, doctor Gilmore. This man just happens to be an admirer of yours." Gaia said, taking the other by surprise.

"An admirer?" He repeated in a surprised voice, raising an eyebrow.

"Please don't exaggerate, Mr. Gaia. It's just that I heard a lot about his reputation, and was curious to meet him in person." Bell replied. He then turned towards Gilmore, and went on: "I admit, the possibility of meeting in with you was what made me accept this invitation, but please don't take it the wrong way, or misunderstand like your colleague did."

"...I see." Gilmore eventually replied, not fully convinced and slightly bothered by that admission. "In that case let me warn you, you will quickly learn that I'm not as interesting a person as rumors make me out to be."

"Really? Someone with a curriculum like yours doesn't seem--"

"Please don't insist, professor Bell." Dressler interrupted him. "That's the closest to accepting a personal compliment you'll ever see him." He said before giving him a glance for just about a moment - quick, but Gilmore was still able to notice it.

"If you want to impress him, you should be less direct, and focus only on his work." Gaia then added with his usual grin on his face.

"Oh... I see." Bell replied, nodding to himself and looking down to his breakfast.

Gilmore gave a small shrug, then looked at the other two guests. "Anyway, professor Yacoub and professor Kozumi, pleased to meet you as well."

"The pleasure is all mine." Yacoub replied, vigorously shaking his hand.

"Same for me." Kozumi added, doing the same right after the other man.

"Well then." Gilmore nodded. "I suppose my colleagues already briefed you on the reason why you have been invited here today."

Yacoub nodded. "We were just waiting for you to arrive, and explain us the finer details."

"Unless you have thought of a different plan for today, of course." Gaia commented, an expression that looked like a sneer on his face.

"No, don't worry. As soon as we'll have finished breakfast, we will start our complete tour." He replied while picking up his cup of coffee, sipping it when he was done talking. Then, without any ceremony, he turned his attention to the bread and marmalade in front of himself.

"Obviously, take your time." Gaia replied. "Anyway, Mr. Kozumi, sorry for interrupting you before. You were saying?"

* * *

As soon as the guard had finished barking orders through the window, Françoise covered her eyes and braced herself for the light that was about to flood the room. A few seconds to get used to it, and she got out of her bed. "Good morning." She said to the other two.

"...mornin'" Jet mumbled, almost slurring. Albert, on the other hand, took some time to sit up, rub his eyes, yawn and get out of bed before returning the salutation.

"Good morning." He said as he reached the table and sat down. He then looked at her, and in response she pointed in the direction of the corners of the room and moved her head left and right a few times. It was a gesture they had agreed on the evening before, so she could warn them about whether or not the microphones in the room were still switched on. He nodded to signal he had understood, a serious expression on his face.

"Do you want to go to the bathroom first?" She then offered in a voice that sounded chipper enough and, she hoped, not forced.

After thinking about it for a couple seconds, he replied: "Why not. It doesn't take me too long, after all. I'll be right back." He then stood up and walked to the bathroom.

"Don't worry, take all the time you need." Françoise answered before sitting down at the table. Some moments later Jet jumped off his bed too, calling her attention as he did so.

"Oh, good morning, 002."

"Yeah, yeah, morning..." He replied, slumping down on one of the chairs. Then, scratching the back of his head, he looked at her with the same expression Albert had used before, only more sleepy-looking, and she repeated the same gesture she had done before. He grimaced, then shrugged and leaned against the back of the chair. "Slept well?" He finally asked.

"Yes. How about you?"

Jet hesitated a moment, then replied: "Not bad." He said, his tone clearly forced.

"Do you want to rest some more time?"

He shook his head. "No, no need." Jet answered, sounding like he wasn't paying attention to her. "Thank you." He then added in a nicer sounding voice, attempting a smile.

Françoise thought about what to reply, when the window in the door opened and the guards warned them their breakfast had arrived. They stood up, went to the door and took their trays, then one of the men on the guards asked: "Where's 004? In the bathroom?"

"Yes." She replied.

"Tell him to get ready, we're taking the two of you out for some checks." The man explained, then pushed some folded white fabric inside the window, which Françoise picked with her free hand. "When you're done with your breakfast put this on."

"...I understand. I'll tell him."

"Good." The guard replied before closing the window, leaving them alone.

Jet reached the table and put down the trays, then got back and took the one Françoise was carrying. She thanked him, then unfolded the fabric and checked out what that thing was, and was surprised to find out it was just a change of pajama. Confused, she turned at Jet, who seemed to share the same feeling. "Why did they give me a clean pajamas, and only me?"

"No idea." He replied with a shrug before sitting down. Françoise checked the pajama again, put it on her bed and sat down at the table.

While they waited for Albert to come out of the bathroom Jet started eating his breakfast, while Françoise kept on thinking about that pajama. So yes, they were supposed to be taken out for some examination with the guests - or at least she was, and that pajama looked a bit more presentable than the ones they usually wore, in all their plainness and basic, almost boring looking shape. But they weren't supposed to know about it, so they had to act oblivious about the whole situation, like they had agreed on the evening before.

Her attention was caught by the noise of the door of the bathroom opening. Albert walked out and reached them at the table.

"The guards just arrived, 004, and told us--"

"Yes, I heard." He replied, interrupting her in a calm voice. "They brought a clean pajama only for you, really?"

"So it seems." Jet commented, still chewing on a mouthful.

"And why?" Albert asked himself.

"No idea. I guess we didn't act nicely enough, so we don't deserve a present." Jet replied, sarcastic.

"Doesn't really surprise me, it's not like I sweat or stain my old ones in any way." Albert commented out loud. He reached his chair, sat down and gave a shrug. "But it's not the weirdest thing they have done, so..." He said before turning towards Françoise and giving her a thin smile. She returned the gesture, and kept on looking at him until he started to eat his breakfast.

She then lowered her head and looked at her own food. The usual stuff, a cup of coffee, an orange and some slices of bread and jam. She looked up again, and noticed 002 and 004 looking at her. She glanced back and they both turned their heads away, trying to act as casually as they could.

Françoise gave a small chuckle, then picked up the dish with the bread and marmalade and gave it to Jet, taking his orange from his tray in exchange. She then started to peel the fruit, giving him a smile.

Jet smiled back to her, took a couple of pieces of bread and marmalade and passed her dish back to her. Françoise attempted to refuse it and push it back, but he gave her an intense leer that, due to how out of nowhere it was, sincerely scared her. She turned her head towards Albert, who pointed at the dish and gave her a nod.

Without moving her head, Françoise looked at the food in front of her, then back up at the two men and once again at her breakfast. She thought for a moment, then reached out with her hand, picked another slice of bread from 002's dish and put it on hers. After giving the two men a firm, almost defiant nod, she turned her attention to all the food on her tray, and couldn't help a chuckle because of how almost dramatic her gesture had accidentally turned out.

She hesitated for a moment before picking up the orange she had started, and finished peeling it. And so, like she had done other times, she decided to focus her attention on the other two instead of the food while she was eating, and made some small talk with Albert about how he had slept that night - in part to avoid keeping silent for too long, and in part to make the time go faster.

When they had all finished their breakfast, Albert was the first to stand up from his seat. As he, Françoise and Jet casually kept on talking about that night sleep, he reached her bed and picked up the clean pajama they had brought, looking carefully at every square inch of its fabric. He then turned back to look at her and shook his head, a confused expression on his face: even he hadn't found anything wrong or strange with it, it seemed.

Just to be safe, Françoise decided to do the same. She looked at shirt and pants as well, once normally and another time with her enhanced sight, while Jet and Albert looked at her from the sides. But she couldn't find anything unusual with that outfit, either. The only thing worth of notice was how the fabric was softer than that of the ones they were usually given, and it looked a bit more elegant. She turned around to look at the two men and gave a small shrug.

"Anyway, I'm going to the bathroom, if it's not a problem." She then said, suddenly changing argument from the small talk they had just had until then.

"Huh... no, of course not, help yourself." Jet replied.

"Thank you, I will be right back." She answered, picking up the pajama and walking to the bathroom. She calmly carried out her morning routine, taking her time and enjoying the tranquility that being in that smaller room without any microphones gave her. It was a pretty laughable consolation, she realized, but it didn't matter, it was still nice and she needed it.

She got out of the shower, dried herself up and put the clean pajama on. She took a few moments to look at herself with it on and to get used to the feeling of it on her skin; and there really was nothing strange with it. It was almost a disappointment, in a way.

After gathering her old pajama, Françoise walked out of the bathroom. In the main room the first thing she saw was 004, taking a couple of steps through the room only to have a piece of paper slip out of the leg of his pants. He knelt down and picked it up, annoyed, while 002 signaled him with gestures to hide it under the elastic band on his hip.

Noticing her, Jet finally turned his head in her direction. "Here you are. My turn, then." He then said, standing up from his chair.

"Sorry for making you wait." She replied. Jet walked towards the bathroom, and Albert turned around and pulled up the shirt of his pajama to hide the sheet in his pants again. Françoise ostensibly looked away and walked towards the bed. Hopefully he would have found a manner to hide that paper properly. For them, everything depended on that.

It was simple sentence, 'I'm a prisoner here, and I'm not alone', written down in English. Initially they had thought about adding it in French, German, Italian and Spanish as well, just to be safe, and 001 had helped them by translating the message in Russian as well. Sadly none of them knew how to write that alphabet, so they decided to leave that one out. It was only at that point that the realization that the guests there would have known well at least English hit them, so they decided there was no need to overdo it. Writing the message in English would have been more than enough.

And besides that, 004 had said, if things had gone the worst way possible and they had been found out, having that message written down in all those languages would have given away the fact they were all involved in that plan. Which would have meant that all of them would have been punished for it, obviously, and if things were really going to go in the worst way possible, it would have been better to keep the blame on only one of them.

At that proposal both she and 002 had started to protest, loudly: they were into this together, if there was going to be a punishment for them, they should have taken it all together. 004 had told them not to be ridiculous, that there was no reason for all of them to risk whatever kind of thing they would have been put through, and had even demanded them to promise him that, if he had been found out, they would have told the doctors they had no idea about what he had tried to do with that message, and that they weren't involved.

They had started to yell at each other, no matter how much 001 kept on repeating them to calm down. The situation had quickly worsened, to the point that 002 had lunged at 004 and tried to punch him in the face. Françoise had tried to intervene and hold him back, but she quickly realized she couldn't do much with her lack of strength, so she had decided to put herself in between the two of them, yelling at 002 that if he wanted to hit 004 he would have had to punch her first. 002 had shoved her away, throwing her to the ground, but she had managed to get back on her feet and in front of him right away.

It was only after that moment that 002 managed to snap out of his anger. He lowered his head and apologized, then sat down on one of the chairs and didn't say another word or exchanged a look with them until 001 had warned them that the microphones were going to be switched on soon, and they had to start their little scene for the sake of the doctors - and even then, the awkwardness of the situation had been lingering in the air until they had gone to sleep.

The rest of the conversation between 004, 001 in the remaining time before the microphones were turned on had been slightly more calm, but only barely: she had tried to convince him to keep the message on herself, hidden inside her bra, but he had refused to let her hold it. If things had taken a turn for the worst and the doctors had found out what they were up to, he didn't want her to be punished for it, he kept on repeating.

Still, she had replied, she could have kept the message hidden much better, since usually the doctors didn't ask her to get fully undressed, and if they did they would have let her take her clothes off in a private corner, on her own. If there was someone who could hide that sheet and not be noticed, it was her. And 001 had agreed, she would have been much better at that than him, if only because this was a visit to show off their enhancements and for that she didn't have to take off her clothes, while he definitely would have had to.

That said, he added, he also agreed with 004 on the fact that if things had gone wrong they should have avoided getting all punished for it. They had to think of their own safety, not give the doctors an excuse to get rid of some of them, or make it impossible for them to be together again.

004 had then repeated that if that was the case, he would have been the one to keep the message, even if 003 would have had less chances to be discovered. After all, at one point or another they would have had to try and pass it to the guests, which would have been a risk, and if someone had to run it, it would have been better that it was him. She had tried to change his mind one last time, but her words hadn't turned out too persuasive - something she realized as well; as much as she didn't want him to have to go through something that dangerous, she also couldn't find faults with his logic. And, most important, she was scared of what could have happened to her if she had been found out, and couldn't find in herself the strength to fake any enthusiasm, and try to act as if she was sincerely ready to do that.

They continued to try and settle out the last few details for a while, until 001 warned them that some people had arrived to take him to the isolation room, so he wouldn't have been able to talk with them or keep the microphones not working for much longer. He wished them the best, and they prepared themselves for what was coming next. Some minutes passed, and Françoise could hear the noise of the static that the microphones let out as they were being switched on. With a gesture she warned the other two. After that 002 told her out loud that her pronunciation wasn't bad at all, but she tended to use the same words over and over again, and should have worked a bit more on that.

After a moment of confusion she nodded, realizing what that was about, then loudly said yes and asked him if she could try again. They were going to have a very long evening, and then an even longer day in front of themselves.

Françoise was finally snapped out of her thoughts by 004 waving his hand in front of her eyes. She jumped up in surprise, and looked straight into his face.

"Are you nervous about something?" He asked.

"Uhn..." Françoise nodded. "No, I mean... I was just wondering about this pajama..."

"Yeah..." He replied. "I suppose they want you to look good for something."

"Probably." She answered.

While they were talking, Jet got out of the bathroom and went back to sit on one of the chairs, asking what were they talking about. They were just wondering what this was all about, and they went on doing small talk for another while, Albert explained.

* * *

The noise stopped all of a sudden, but it took Ivan a few seconds to realize it, his head still buzzing because of that annoying sound. Yes, he was still slightly confused, but now he would have finally been able to enjoy some minutes of peace.

Then the door opened and a nurse walked inside the room, heading for the crib where he was resting. She picked him up and caressed his back, shaking him a bit, and in response he let out a small wail and waved his arms about. The woman went to sit on a nearby chair and began to gently rock him in her arms, and Ivan couldn't help feeling relaxed and lulled by that movement.

Since he had been brought to that room, this was the sixth time now that he had gone through that routine: that low, monotone noise went on for about a couple of hours or so - he had only managed to learn exactly how much those sessions lasted by reading Gilmore's mind once, he wouldn't have been able to measure it on his own - and stopped for around fifteen minutes, to give him some respite. During that time a nurse would get inside the room and check on him, even play around with him a bit, but after that the woman would leave, and the annoying sound would start playing again.

That repetitive noise hit a low frequency that was supposed to distract him, not allowing him to use his powers for as long as it resounded and some time after it had stopped, thanks to the small headache it left him with.

That noise was nothing he couldn't endure, especially when compared to what he had been forced to hear the first time they had put him through that. He clearly remembered starting to cry from the distress and the headache it was giving him, to the point that a couple of people had stormed into the room and took him out by force, yelling to stop that damn noise immediately. He had fallen ill for a few days, during which everything had felt like a blur.

To catch up on what had happened he had been forced to look into Gilmore's memories, and found out that the accident had caused a bit of a commotion among the doctors, with some of them being demoted or just expelled from the facility because of their oversight. The remaining ones had been forced to work on perfecting the technology for a whole month, during which the rest of the projects had been almost completely put aside. And as much as it pained him to admit it, they had done a pretty good job: the noise now was only mildly bothering him, and never left him with nothing more than a slight headache that passed a couple of minutes later - that, and a feeling of annoyance at how effective it was at not letting him concentrate and use his powers.

Seeing he had calmed down, the nurse picked a bottle from the pocket of her coat and shook it in front of his eyes. That gesture called Ivan's attention, who instinctively tried to reach out for it. The woman delicately pulled his sucker out of his mouth and started to feed him. He wasn't really hungry, but the repeated sucking from the bottle made him feel more relaxed; must have been an instinctive reaction of his still small body, he thought as he enjoyed the milk.

As his mind finally unclouded and he was able to think straight again, Ivan wondered how the other three were doing right now. Last night he had been forced to leave them abruptly, and right after they had finished having a very nasty argument. He had tried to communicate with 002 after his outburst, to ask him if he was alright, only to be told to go away and have a few insults thrown his way, so he had decided to leave him alone. For a moment he had been tempted to break his rule about not spying in the mind of his friends and see what was up with him, but thankfully his best judgement won over, and refrained from doing so. Hopefully, when everything would have been over, they would have been able to talk this out.

That was, if everything went right during the visit to 003 and 004. The possibility of them being separated once again if there was a hitch of any kind was a very real and frightening one, and if that happened trying to find a way to escape all together would have been impossible. They would have had to wait months, if not years, to have a chance at it again, and who knew what would have happened by then.

Because of that, his first instinct when he had heard about the message was to tell them not to do it, and give up entirely on this pointlessly dangerous plan; they would have been able to find another way to send a call for help to the outside world. But he knew it would have been difficult for him to try and stifle their enthusiasm at the possibility of finding a means to send an SOS to someone, so he had decided not to. And besides, trying to dissuade them from that would have only made 002 even more suspicious about his intentions, and probably 003 and 004 as well. And he didn't need that right now.

The only thing he could do right now was wait for the day to be over, and hope for the best. He trusted them, they would have been able to do everything they needed without getting caught. He just needed to relax and endure the rest of the day; compared to the stress 003 and 004 were likely going to put themselves through for that message, this was nothing, he thought as the nurse took the bottle out of his mouth and gently patted him on his back.

* * *

"Well then, gentlemen. If there's anything else you'd like to ask do it right away, before we split." Gilmore announced in a loud, almost imperious voice, straightening his back as he pronounced those words. In response, he could overhear a small laugh coming from behind himself, and he could easily guess who that was. Then again, he realized, trying to look martial and authoritative wasn't really simple for someone like him - both because of his actual position, and because of his looks. Last time he had tried to act like that, the Napoleon jokes has been running around for a couple of months.

On the bright side, the guests didn't seem to share the same feeling regarding him - or, at least, they had been polite enough not to let it show. But that was fine, that way he wouldn't have had to be annoyed with them for the rest of the day.

Gilmore looked at the three men and waited for their reply; they exchanged looks with each other and murmured something, then turned towards him.

"I don't have anything else to ask. You and doctor Gaia did a wonderful job explaining us the situation." Bell said.

"I agree." Yacoub intervened. "Personally, I'd like to go ahead to the crafting laboratory. After what you told us, I'm really curious to see their work with my own eyes."

"Same for me." Kozumi added, nodding.

Gilmore gave them a smile. "In that case, let's go right away. Doctor Dressler, take care of professor Yacoub. Doctor Gaia, please take Mr. Bell to meet with our colleagues from the surgical department." He calmly said. Then he turned towards Kozumi, and went on: "As for you, professor, there are a couple of things I would like to ask you regarding your research."

The man looked confused, and exchanged a look with the other two guests before turning back towards Gilmore. "Yes, like you ask. Not a problem, but..."

"What?" Gilmore asked.

Kozumi looked lost in thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No, nothing. It was just me, heh. Anyway, we will be going. See you all later." He told the other men before walking next to Gilmore.

"See you all at lunchtime, then." Gilmore replied, turning them his back and walking towards one of the elevators, followed by Kozumi. While he waited for the doors to open he couldn't help give a couple of glances at the other man, only to get an awkward expression in return.

When they were alone inside the elevator, doors closed, Gilmore spoke: "What exactly is your problem with this arrangement, doctor Kozumi?" He asked, his voice flat.

"Er... uh..." Kozumi stuttered a bit, looking away. "No, I have no problem at all with it, really. I just find this kind of weird, heh..." He explained, scratching the back of his neck.

"Weird?"

"Well, I would have expected you to accompany doctor Bell to meet the members of the surgical department, that's all."

Gilmore snickered. "I will have a talk to him in the afternoon, there are quite a few things I want to know from him too." He replied, visibly amused. "However, I'm also the chief of this whole project, and it's in this vest that I have a few very important question to ask you."

"Oh... I see." Kozumi answered, nodding awkwardly. "And, to be fair, I would have loved to go and check your material development department, that's why I was a bit--"

"That's exactly where we're going." Gilmore interrupted him as he gave a sideways glance to the button panel and saw that the lights indicated they had almost arrived to their floor.

"Really?"

Gilmore nodded. "I did notice how interested you were while me and Gaia talked about our experiments in creating semi-organic synthetic tissue. And seeing your reaction made me happy, since we are interested in the expertise you could bring us on the matter." He replied.

"Expertise?" Kozumi repeated just as the elevator came to a halt and shook slightly.

The doors opened, and Gilmore headed out. "Please follow me." He said, and after a moment of hesitation Kozumi followed him, walking at a brisk pace.

They walked to the end of the corridor in complete silence, until they reached an imposing looking metal door. Gilmore opened it, walked in and waited for Kozumi to be next to him.

Three men wearing medical coats politely greeted the two when they walked in. Kozumi returned the greeting with a smile and gave a look around the small room. Gilmore pointed to a table sitting right in the middle of it, with some files and a few Petri dishes on it.

"Feel free to check them." Gilmore invited him, pointing at the objects sitting on the table with a gesture of his hand.

Kozumi still looked confused. "And this room is...?"

"You weren't brought to this laboratory during yesterday's visit, it seems." Gilmore replied. "Not a problem, I will explain you now. As I said, please go and check the papers and the specimens we have prepared for you."

Kozumi nodded awkwardly, then walked closer to the table and took a hold of one of the Petri dishes, then of another transparent container made of thicker glass. Each of them contained samples of what looked like very thin thread. He had to look at the Petri dish holding it against a light to notice its contents. "So, these are the samples of semi-organic tissue you talked about? And what exactly are they for? Suture?"

Without saying a word, Gilmore pushed one of the papers towards him. "Sadly this isn't exactly my field, so I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to explain myself properly. Please read this first, and feel free to ask any question you might have to my colleagues."

Kozumi put the Petri dish back on the table, then picked up the file and started reading it. As he went through the document, Gilmore studied the man's reactions: his expression grew more concentrated and incredulous as he went on reading. When he was finished he put the file down and moved on to another one, carefully reading through that as well. For a while the only noises in the room were those of the paper rustling and the occasional cough.

When he was done with the documents, Kozumi took the Petri dish back up and looked at it again, this time with his eyes wide open.

"If you need to give a closer inspection we can bring you better samples, so you can check them under the microscope, or any other instrument you might need. Just ask, and we'll provide it to you." Gilmore commented, pointing at some instruments sitting on the other side of the table.

Kozumi didn't reply, he didn't even turn his head towards the other man, and just kept on looking at the Petri dish. Gilmore decided to wait and be sure to have the man's reaction before repeating his words.

"This is not some kind of practical joke, is it?" Kozumi eventually said, without taking his eyes off the samples.

"Do you think that renowned scientists of our caliber would play around like this, professor Kozumi?" Gilmore replied, unable to hide the fact he was amused by his reaction.

"Well, yes, because this is ridiculous!" Kozumi answered, pointedly. "When you talked about this, before, I assumed that the kind of non-biological tissue you and your team had been working on was some kind of suture..." He then put down the sample, picked up one of the files and gave it a slap. "But this stuff is ridiculous! Pure science fiction!"

"I'm offended by your insinuation, doctor Kozumi." Gilmore said, assuming a smug attitude. "You just read through the whole thing, didn't you? Everything single procedure described in that document is scientifically accurate and sound, isn't it?"

"Indeed." One of the other scientists in the room chimed in. "And if any of the final passages of the documents, those regarding the composition of the material we've discovered, seem farfetched to you, we can replicate the experiment right here and now to show you we're not joking. We have everything in this laboratory, we can start whenever you want."

Kozumi hesitated a moment, opened the file and rifled through it again. He then closed it, slammed back on the table and stared in front of himself, at nothing in particular, in utter disbelief. "No, there's no need." He eventually replied. "If what you wrote in this report is accurate, I can wrap my head around how you managed to make it. But seeing this stuff being made isn't the main issue here. I want to see it at work."

"At work?" Gilmore repeated.

Kozumi nodded. "You wrote it down on the document, didn't you? The material was tested on living subjects, and it did bring positive results. Then show me the test subjects and how well they're dealing with their synthetic nerves, and then I will believe you." He said, defiantly.

Gilmore let out a chuckle. "Fair enough. Well then, doctor Crofts. Please accompany doctor Kozumi at the main surgery room in the eastern wing of the building, I will be there with our test subject in twenty minutes or so."

The other man stared back in disbelief. "So you are serious about this, aren't you?"

"Also, please go get him something warm to drink to help him calm down, while you're waiting for me and the patient to be back. Some tea or chamomile, maybe." Gilmore then added, almost nonchalantly. He then turned towards Kozumi and, with a half grin, added: "After all, if reading about it has caused him so much distress, I don't know how he will react when he'll be able to touch the results of our research with his own hands."

Kozumi's expression grew aggravated. Then, almost all of a sudden, he shrugged and gave him the same expression. "Then show me those results, instead of joking around."

"Gladly." Gilmore said. "See you in a few minutes, then. Doctor Crofts, I leave him in your hands. Ryan, please follow me."

"Yes, doctor Gilmore." The man answered, nodding.

Received the reply, Gilmore turned around and walked out of the laboratory followed by Ryan. Once they were in the corridor, Gilmore dropped his half smile and got back to his usual stern expression. "Go and get 003 and 004, and bring them to their respective medical bays."

"Understood." The man replied. "Are you going to take care of the rest of the staff yourself?"

Gilmore froze a moment, suddenly reminded of something: Whisky, dammit. They had to carry out a check on 003 and 004, that man was indispensable. But given the protocol they had to follow, the man was supposed to keep hiding in his room for the rest of the day, like Brown.

What a hassle, he told himself while scratching the back of his neck. There were dozens of scientists in that facility, and yet Whisky was the only brain surgeon who had operated on those cyborgs so far. Then again, he was the only one qualified and with enough experience to carry out something like that at the moment, all other doctors were still training for it.

After letting out a sigh, he replied: "Yes, leave it to me. Eastern wing of the facility, don't forget."

"Of course. Later." The other answered, before heading to the other side of the corridor, to the elevators. He walked inside one and reached the floor where Gamo's room was located. When he was in front of the door he knocked four times and waited for a reply.

A few seconds later the door opened, and Gamo glared at him. "Что ты делаешь здесь , и зачем--"

"Get ready and come to the surgery room in the eastern wing, we need your help." Gilmore said.

Gamo looked confused for a moment, then replied: "А почему-- I mean, why me?"

"There was a sudden change of plans, we need to show off the cyborgs' nervous system to one of the guests." He explained. "You'll only have to do some handiwork, nothing more."

"Are you sure?" Gamo asked.

"You know me, I wouldn't be bothering you if it wasn't strictly necessary." Gilmore replied.

Gamo glared back at the other man, then let out a sigh. "I see. When is the appointment?"

"You have half an hour."

"And the rest of the team?"

"They'll all be there as well."

Gamo gave a small nod. "Understood. I will be there soon." He replied, then closed the door.

After letting a few seconds pass, to make sure that the man wasn't coming out again, Gilmore let out a sigh of relief, then walked back to the elevator. Thankfully gathering the rest of the team would have been a less annoying and secretive task, and a simple couple of calls would have sufficed.

* * *

They were doing some small talk when the door of the cell opened, without as much as a warning. He turned his head in its direction, and saw a bigger than usual group of guards standing on the doorstep. Next to them, a couple of doctors and a nurse.

"003 and 004, come here." One of the guards ordered.

Albert looked at the other two, then stood up, raised his hands and did as he was asked. When Françoise had reached him on the doorstep he lowered his hands and tended his wrists to one of the guards.

"There won't be need for that this time." The man said, leaving the two surprised. He then took some steps backwards, to let the two get into the corridor.

Before heading out, Albert turned back towards Jet: "Later, 002."

"Yes, see you later." Françoise added.

"Take care." Jet replied right before one of the guards closed the door and locked it. Albert couldn't help giving a look at his wrists: it was a new one for him, not being handcuffed when taken out of the room. They were really going to be visited by those guests, it seemed.

"You, follow us." The two male doctors ordered Albert while the nurse put her hands on 003's shoulders and gently pushed her aside, towards the other side of the corridor.

"You will be coming with me." The woman told her.

"Yes, madame Mayniel." Françoise replied, nodding. She then turned towards Albert and said: "See you later, 004."

Albert looked back at her, and gave her a smile. "Take care." He managed to say before two guards walked to his sides and took him by his arms. He tried to give her another glance, but before he could the men had started to pull him, and all he could do was obey and go along with their unspoken order.

He was surprised to see that the men were carrying him towards another elevator on the other side of the corridor, since he had always assumed there was only the one that brought there. The guards pushed him in and the doctors followed suit, then the doors closed.

While the elevator reached the right floor, none of the people inside said a word. Albert turned his head to give the men around him a look, but couldn't find anything interesting in their expressions. This was the same routine he went through whenever he was brought out for a visit, nothing out of the ordinary so far.

However, according to what 002 had told him about what had happened during his visit with the guests, things were going to change pretty quickly as soon as they'd gotten out of there. First of all, they would have sat him down and forced him to learn a lenghty story to tell the guests about why and how he had ended in there, and why now he was just a brain in a mechanical body.

He had to admit, he kind of looked forward to that one, if only to hear what kind of ridiculous story they had come up with to justify that. It would have been good for a laugh with 001, 002 and 003, when they would have been back together.

About that, 001. He hoped he was doing well, wherever he was. The way he had told them goodbye had been very abrupt, and he couldn't help being worried about it.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. The guards dragged Albert out, and led him through yet another long corridor. After some more minutes of walking in complete silence, the men finally told him to stop in front of a door. The two doctors following them stepped ahead, opened it and entered, and Albert was pushed in.

"Welcome, 004." A voice greeted him as soon as he was past the doorstep.

"Doctor Gilmore..." He replied, not even trying to hide his annoyance. "What is it now? Any problem?"

"No, nothing of the sort." The man explained, pacing around the room while the other two doctors reached a nearby table. "We just need to show your technology to some guests."

"What?" He asked back, sincerely confused.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, you'll be unconscious the whole time. When you'll be awake again, everything will be alright." Gilmore explained in an unnervingly calm voice.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Get on that bed and don't worry about a thing. You'll be back with 002 and 003 before you'll even know." The other man said, flatly, while pointing to a stretcher on wheels on the other side of the room. "Or, if you prefer, the guards can incapacitate you with their weapons. Which one you prefer."

Albert turned around and glared at the guards, then back at Gilmore. What was this all about? Why was this happening, all of a sudden? What was going to happen to the message, if they knocked him unconscious for the rest of the visit? Did that mean they knew about it?

He hesitated, and realized he was looking more and more suspicious with every second that passed - not to mention, if he waited some more the guards would have gotten him unconscious themselves, and if they did it they might have found the message when putting him on the stretcher. If he collaborated, he could have been able to do something.

After steadying himself as best as he could, Albert slowly walked to the stretcher. "I'll do it myself, don't worry." He then said, loudly. "Do you need me to undress, too?"

Gilmore turned his head towards the other two doctors and exchanged a look with them. The men returned it, then one said: "Well, why not. That would save us some hassle..." He said.

"Alright then." Gilmore commented. "Take your shirt off."

"Understood." Albert replied. If he could have freely let out a sigh of relief, he would have done so. Instead, he slowly and calmly took off his shirt. With a quick movement of his hand he pulled the paper out of his underwear and hid it in the palm of his hand, then looked at the doctor who had suggested he'd get undressed with an interrogative look.

"Just give that to me." He replied, walking towards him to take the shirt. Albert handed it out with one hand, while using the thumb of the other he folded the sheet again to make the piece of paper smaller, keeping it hidden in the palm of his hand.

"Good. Now get on the stretcher." Gilmore ordered.

Albert nodded, then did as he was asked. As he lay down, he paid attention to get on the stretcher by keeping the side of the hand that held the paper get towards the side that gave to the wall, away from where the doctors and the guards were looking. Then, with a quick gesture, he slipped the folded sheet under the surface on which he was laying, between it and the metal structure of the bed. He held his breath for a moment, hoping he had done it correctly and that it wouldn't have fallen to the floor by accident. Not seeing, hearing or noticing any kind of reaction from the other men in the room, he finally allowed himself to relax.

When he was laying down, the other two doctors walked close to him and covered him with a sheet, up to his chest. Even better, he told himself as he used the occasion to push the paper even further in to hide it better, trying his best not to get noticed.

Gilmore got closer to the stretcher. "Took you some time." He commented.

Albert gave him a grin. "I was just fighting the temptation to punch you in the face." He replied, spitefully.

The other man gave him a glare, then turned his head towards one of the doctors. "Put him to sleep."

"Yes sir!" The man replied, and with quick steps he reached the stretcher, and put a small mask that covered his mouth and nose on Albert's face. Everything like usual, he told himself as he started to breathe in deeply.

* * *

 _'I know you're there, fucker. Just fucking answer me, you piece of shit!'_ Jet thought, hoping that a reply would have soon resounded in his mind. His thoughts had started off quiet and relaxed enough, but the more he waited without anything happening, the more he grew impatient, and his language had turned openly vulgar. Insulting and provoking him might have done the trick, and he would have finally stopped pretending and replied.

He knew 001 was there, looking and listening to what was happening. He knew that he was behind those microphones, recording every thing they did, even if he pretended he wasn't, even when he pretended they weren't working. But what angered him the most was how he was treating 003 and 004, and playing with their expectations.

Still, he couldn't blame them for believing his words: someone was offering them a glimmer of hope, and they had latched onto it. He had been through that phase as well, long ago, but now he knew better, and things didn't work like this at that place. 003 and 004 he could trust, he had seen them with his own eyes, talked with them and passed some time with them. Their reactions and words had been the exact same he had dealt with in the past, when he had found himself in their same situation. He knew they were genuine people. They really wanted out of there as well, and he would have done anything in his power to help them - if not to escape, at least to make things less awful.

But if that was the case, then why had he exploded at them last night? Yes, sure, 004 did deserve some dressing down because of how stubborn and stupid he had been, but nothing excused the fact he had hurt 003 by throwing her to the ground. The fact he hadn't done it intentionally didn't make things any better.

He wished he could have blamed that overreaction last night entirely on his time in there, but sadly that awful, nasty attitude of his was something he had since the days before he had been brought there. Back then it was a necessary behavior, if he wanted to live without having to deal with all the shit going on both at home and outside - and when having to deal with the doctors and other people in there too, if he wanted to keep some sanity and self respect, and show them they still hadn't won. But with 003 and 004, he shouldn't have even thought of behaving like that. They didn't deserve it.

And the worst thing was, he had no idea how to tell them he was sorry. He had no idea where to start, or if they would have accepted his apologies. Had it been for him, he would have run away from them as soon as he had realized what he had done, and come back to say sorry only after some time, to cool his head, but obviously it was impossible in there. So he had turned them his back, sat on a chair and stood in silence, trying to calm down and wondering what to do next. Remembering that the microphones would have been turned on soon, he decided to try out in his head the fake conversation about languages they had agreed on last night. For the moment, he didn't want to think any longer about what he had just done, it would have just made him more depressed, and they didn't need that at the moment.

A part of him was sincerely hoping that those microphones would have been kept switched on for another while after that, possibly some days. That way he could have ignored the mess he had done, and could have been able to go on with 003 and 004 like nothing was. But that was fucked up, not to mention cowardly. He needed to face what he had done and deal with the consequences.

But he was afraid that, after that outburst, they wouldn't have trusted him anymore. And why would they? Nobody would trust being around a volatile person like he had demonstrated he could be, and definitely not in such a situation.

As he thought about this, Jet realized he was shaking. Literally, his hands were trembling. He looked at them, and let out a chuckle. Just how many times had he gone through this already? More than he could bother to remember - and, if the doctors here really had a machine that could delete people's memories, possibly more than he could remember, period.

He was thinking about that, and all of a sudden Jet found himself shaking even more violently, his body trembling all over. He stood up from the table and headed for his bed, pulled the sheets above his head and started to breathe in and out slowly, to calm down. He didn't want the people listening to him to learn about that moment of weakness.

No, scratch that, 001 would have known about it. He was there, he should have never forgotten about it. He was reading his thoughts right now, he was sure of it. And if that was the case, Jet told himself, even better. He had never made a mystery of what he thought of the people in there and how he felt about it, to any of them, and that obviously included 001 too. But he was afraid that, if he managed to find out that he really cared about 003 and 004, they would have done something awful to them, just to keep him in line.

Still, it wasn't like he could just delete his thoughts, or lock them in some remote corner of his mind. So 001 had probably already learned about this too, and they were probably working on exploiting this.

If that was true, he needed to make the best of his time with them. He decided that tonight, as soon as they would have been back, he would have apologized to them, then tried to empty his mind, so that there was nothing 001 could have spied on. He had heard that some people were able to do that, he would have learned to do the same as well.

* * *

"Here we are. Please follow us." One of the men accompanying him said when the doors of the elevators opened.

"Yes, please." Kozumi replied, nodding. Force of instinct had almost made him take a small bow, but he had managed to stop himself just before, realizing just how silly and stereotypical it would have looked. Still, the corridors of that place looked so austere and cold, they reminded him of his days at the university, when he was dealing with his professors. But this place and those people were definitely not as formal, for starters. Still, the two doctors who had brought him there had been so nice, he couldn't help being polite.

They finally reached a door that, despite the description he had received before from Gilmore, didn't look like the entrance to a surgery room, it was a simple single door. Still, he decided not to question it, and waited for the two men to open it and invite him inside.

Once in, he studied the place; it looked like some sort of laboratory rather than a waiting room, with tables and medical equipment on them. Standing around there were a dozen people, some wearing lab coats and the others surgical scrubs and masks. A few steps away from the entrance, right in front of himself, was Gilmore. The man was wearing a scrub as well, his arms behind his back and the familiar thin smile on his face. "Oh, here you are, professor Kozumi." He greeted him.

And with that, all the good will the other two men had helped him build up was gone. "Yes. Your colleagues brought me here." He replied, speaking slowly and pointedly.

Gilmore let out a small laugh. "Obviously, obviously. Now, please stand still a moment while our assistants prepare you."

Kozumi turned his head to his sides, and saw to men approaching him, one with a scrub and the other with a mask, a cap and a pair of plastic gloves. After a moment of surprise he put his arms forward and let the two dress him up. The way they did so gently, smiling at him, put him in a slightly better mood once again.

While he waited for the two men to finish dressing him up, Kozumi gave a look at all the other people in the room. Among them there was one in particular who caught his attention: it was a short but bulky looking man, already fully dressed with his scrub, cap and mask. What had gotten his attention was the fun-looking bump in his mask, clearly the result of him trying to hide a mustache under it. The more time he looked at the man, the more something got to him: there was something familiar in that guy, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Well then." Gilmore commented, looking around. "Is everyone ready?"

Most of the people in the room replied with a yes, and Gilmore nodded to himself while pulling up the surgical mask he was wearing to cover his nose and mouth. "Good. Professor Kozumi, follow me. Everyone else, follow us." He said in the usual flat voice he normally used.

As he walked behind the man, Kozumi felt deeply annoyed. There was something very unpleasant in that man's attitude, and not just because of how clearly fake his smiles and kindness were.

And he wasn't the only one to feel like that, as right after they had finished breakfast, Bell told him and Yacoub about how disappointed he was in having met Gilmore in person. The man was some sort of hero for him, he had written whole papers on him and his research on artificial hearts, his dedication to research had inspired him. Right after confessing that, however, he had given them a sad smile and shrugged: a lot of geniuses did turn out like that, so he should have expected it. His own fault for having been so wide-eyed.

Then again, annoying and grating individuals were in all places, and most of the other people he had met in the hours he had spent there, from the other doctors to the nurses, to the guards that had escorted them there, even the janitors, were really nice. Maybe it was because of this that people like Gilmore, Gaia and Crofts, with their unbearable attitude and air, stood out to him that much. And having to follow him and obey to his orders wasn't exactly putting him in a good mood.

A couple of assistants opened a door in front of them, and they finally walked inside what actually looked like an operating room. Stepping in, Kozumi gave a look around, and noticed just how big the place was. Then again, he hadn't seen many from the inside, that wasn't his field, but from what he knew that place was impressive.

In front of him, in the middle of the room, he could see some strange machines placed around an operating table. He wasn't familiar with any of them, and he just chalked that up to his lack of knowledge.

He walked closer and closer to the table and, after getting used to the blinding lights illuminating the area, he started to focus on what was laying on it. He was about to say something out loud, but Gilmore preceded him: "Allow me to show you our masterpiece, professor Kozumi. Admittedly, I didn't personally have as big an involvement in this, but as small as it was I provided some help, and that makes me immensely proud."

Hearing his words, Kozumi turned his head in surprise: all of a sudden, that man's voice had gotten a warmth to it, and it was weird. And even the expression on his face, even if half covered by his mask, looked genuinely happy.

Once he recovered from that small shock, however, he quickly turned annoyed: "Are you trying to mock me, Gilmore? Why are you showing me this mannequin?" He asked, pointing to what was on the table.

"It's not a mannequin." Gilmore calmly replied. "Please come closer, and let me show you."

Kozumi did as he was asked, and looked inside what was the open chest of what, for all intentions and purposes, was a mannequin: all he could see was a lot of strange machinery, some of it working and audibly whirring, and tubes and wires crammed into that space. He turned his head, even more annoyed.

"Now, can you see those very thin red wires on his arm? If you can't don't worry, we have a magnifying lens to--"

"What does this have to do with anything, Gilmore?"

"Those red wires, as I was saying." Gilmore replied, without losing his composure. "Those are the synthetic nervous fibers I have shown you not too long ago. That's what they look like once their refinement process is finished and they're implanted into a mechanical body."

Kozumi glared at him, then looked back at the arm. "Really, now." He commented in a sarcastic tone. "Are you trying to tell me you managed to build a robot and--"

"Not a robot, but a cyborg." Gilmore interrupted him, the hint of arrogance seeping back in his voice. "Cybernetic organism, if you will. Human organs enhanced with mechanical and electronic items."

Kozumi was at loss for words. Before he could even try to reply anything, with a gesture Gilmore invited him to one side of the table, where the head of the mannequin - or, as the man called it, the _cyborg_ , was. Without even thinking about it, he obeyed.

"Now, look carefully at that." Gilmore said, pointing to a transparent looking smooth container that was sticking out of the open cranium of the mannequin. Kozumi stepped closer, and when he could finally have a good look at was inside the object he jumped back in surprise.

"That's right. A real, actual human brain." Gilmore commented. "It might not be your field, but I'm sure you can recognize one when you see it."

As he looked better, Kozumi noticed a series of those thin red wires popping out from the back of the transparent case that contained that brain. He walked back to the side of the table and looked at the arm again: seeing it now, after that, made him feel like he was looking at one of those anatomical demonstration figures with removable parts, that could be taken apart during medical lessons. Except this one was filled with machinery.

"That part you're see currently working is the mechanical heart. If it was still he wouldn't be alive, as you can imagine. That was my contribution to this particular project, but I also helped designing the protective case you just saw, the one that contains the brain with the synthetic cerebrospinal fluid, and the spinal chord." Gilmore started to explain, taking Kozumi, who hadn't even noticed the other man walking next to him, by surprise. "Those other two parts that you can clearly see working are the lungs. That is needed to keep the patient anesthetized and unconscious for this visit."

Kozumi turned his head towards Gilmore, incredulous. "Why would you need to anesthetize a robot? You could just take out the brain, and--"

"A cyborg, doctor." Gilmore interrupted him, speaking in a firm tone. "And this isn't some fantasy or science fiction novel. A human brain can't just be detached from or reattached to the rest of the nervous system that easily."

Not knowing what to say, Kozumi walked back to the side of the table, to get a better look at the mechanical body's chest and looked at the working parts, whirring softly. His eyes slowly moved to his side, towards the face of the mannequin, and only then he noticed that that thing had an actual face, slightly covered by a small mask covering its nose and mouth. He looked back at the chest, and slowly started to see that thing as some sort of actual humanoid looking whole. That mass of pieces of machinery and wires began to look somewhat more like the actual insides of a human being in a way, even if their form, color and shape were nothing like it. As he thought of that, the feeling he was looking at an actual man laid on a table like a dissected frog creeped in his brain. He focused back on the single parts of machinery in front of his eyes, and managed to chase that thought away, even if the unpleasant sensation stayed with him some more.

"If you want more information regarding other parts I can't be helpful, as it goes beyond my expertise, but my colleagues around here will be happy to explain you, just ask." Gilmore then said, snapping Kozumi out of his confusion. In response he just nodded and looked at the other men standing around the operating table, before deciding to walk back where the head was. Once there he carefully examinated the open skull, and was incredibly relieved to see it wasn't human bone, but some artificial material he couldn't recognize without at least touching it - although, given what he had just been told, it was probably some material only known to people working in this facility.

Instinctively, he reached out to touch the case protecting the brain, only to be stopped by a voice loudly calling him out.

"Don't touch anything!" One of the doctors admonished him.

"Heh... please don't worry, I wasn't going to. Don't forget I'm a scientist like you, I know how these things work, heh..." Kozumi replied a bit awkwardly. In reality, if they hadn't stopped him, he would have likely just gone and done so without even realizing. This was an amazing thing to behold - if it was true, that was. So, after straightening himself out, he asked: "However, how am I going to be sure that this is a real human brain, and not just some reproduction? As far as I can tell, you just brought me in front of a bunch of scraps of metal."

"Fair enough." Gilmore replied. "But are you sure you don't have any other questions?"

Kozumi shook his head. "Examining human bodies or machinery isn't my speciality. The only things I might find interesting to analyze are the nervous tissue and the cerebrospinal fluid currently in the body of this manne-- cyborg, as you called it."

"In that case, we'll happily provide you with some." Gilmore answered. He then turned towards the other men and added: "Get some samples for doctor Kozumi."

As soon as he said those words, one of the men standing around the table took a lancet and a pair of surgical scissors from one of the tables and passed them to another man, who then proceeded to use them to cut some of the red wiring from the cyborg's arm. The operation was carried out with the same gravitas and care one would have imagined would have been put into an operation on an actual human being. Kozumi himself couldn't help stand still, in complete silence and holding his breath during what seemed the most difficult moments. After that, the assistant passed the doctor another thin red string, and the doctor used it to replace the one he had just taken away.

When the man was finally done with his work and another couple of assistant were starting to prepare themselves for another round, Gilmore turned towards Kozumi: "Are you really sure those are the only two samples you need?"

Kozumi gasped, taken by surprise, before answering: "Y-Yes, for the moment it will be enough..."

"Are you really sure?"

"Don't exaggerate, Gilmore." One of the men fiddling around the table commented. "I'm pretty sure doctor Kozumi will have to wrap his head around these two things first, before he can start to study and analyze everything else."

"Yes, perfectly said." Kozumi said, still too confused and shocked to be able to say anything more complex than that. If these men were being so willing and prompt to help and provide him with samples, like he had asked, and were so confident to get them for him right under his eyes, was it really possible that what they were saying about this was true?

In that case, there was another thing he needed to ask. "However, if this is really a being with a human brain, and if you had to anesthetize him for this, it means he's alive, and he can interact with people, right?"

"Obviously." Gilmore answered. "And you'd like to talk with him, I guess."

He nodded. "Of course."

"No problem, at all." The other replied. "You'll need to give him some time to wake up and recover, however. It won't take as long as with an actual human being, but still."

"I understand. Thank you." Kozumi answered before turning his head to the people busily walking around the table. He noticed the same man that had caught his attention before, the one with the weird bump under his mask he had noticed earlier in the preparation room, standing right next to the head of the cyborg, and carefully inserting a small tube through an opening in the case protecting the brain.

"You will have full access to the laboratory you visited before, to carry out all analysis you want and need. We'll have your lunch brought here, if you prefer." Gilmore said. "And when he'll be awake we'll warn you, so you can come visit him. Speaking about which, there's someone else we would like you to visit, before leaving you to your work."

* * *

"[So, did you understand everything?]"

Françoise nodded, moving her neck slowly. "[Yes, madame Mayniel.]"

"[You remember everything you have to say?]"

"[Of course.]" She replied, without even looking at the other woman.

The head nurse smiled. "[Very well. They're coming here, stay calm and everything will go well.]" The other woman gave her a smile and patted her shoulder. Françoise flashed back a tired smile, straightened her back and put on her face the best relaxed expression she could attempt in that moment. She reached out on the table next to her and took her half empty glass of water, brought it to her mouth and sipped it slowly, to calm herself down. Just as Mayniel was asking her whether she wanted another glass, the door opened and the men walked in.

"Good morning, miss Arnoul. Good morning, miss Mayniel." Gilmore greeted them as soon as he was inside the room.

"...morning." Françoise replied, awkwardly.

"Good morning, doctor Gilmore." Mayniel answered.

"Good morning from me as well. I'm professor Kozumi, pleased to meet you." The man introduced himself with a wide smile on his face, calmly walking towards the two women. When he was in front of them he shook the nurse's hand, then tended his hand to Françoise. After a moment of hesitation, she took a hold of his hand and returned the handshake.

"Please don't be nervous, miss. I'm not as boring as I might look like." Kozumi commented before giving a small laugh.

Without even realizing it, Françoise found herself chuckling along with the man, even if she didn't find that joke funny at all - in fact, she could barely guess that was supposed to be a joke at all. But much to her own surprise, hers wasn't a forced laugh, either.

"Don't worry about that, professor. She's just a shy young woman, that's her attitude with everyone in here." Gilmore said, stepping closer to them.

"Uhm, yes... that's true." Mayniel added, her voice trailing off a bit.

"I think I understand, then. But please don't worry, I won't be bothering you for too long." Kozumi told Françoise before letting go of her hand.

"In that case, we should start the examination right away." Gilmore said while signaling something to the nurse with a movement of his head.

"Yes." Mayniel commented while producing an otoscope from the pocket of her white coat. "If you want to check, professor Kozumi..." She added while pushing Françoise's hair behind her ear to uncover it.

"Sure." Kozumi said while walking to the side of the two women. Mayniel put the otoscope in the other young woman's ear, and the man crouched enough so he could check the instrument. Françoise stood still, and waited.

"Are you surprised, professor?" Gilmore asked after some time, not seeing any reaction from the professor.

"Y-Yes..." Kozumi replied. "Not as much as I was a few minutes ago." He added with a small cackle.

By those words, Françoise could guess that meant he had seen 004 already, and wondered if he had managed to pass him the message. And, in that case, had this man read it already?

"I can imagine..." Gilmore casually commented.

While they chatted, the nurse put the otoscope away in her pocket, and pulled out a penlight from the other, then walked in front of Françoise. "When you'll both be ready, we'll do a quick check at the eyes, too." She said, looking at the other woman.

"Yes..." Françoise replied, nodding awkwardly and preparing herself.

Kozumi walked in front of her as well, and knelt until he was at eye level as Françoise. "Okay, whenever she's ready..." He then said.

"I'm fine, go ahead." Françoise commented.

"Well then. Now relax for a moment..." Mayniel said before delicately pulling Françoise's lids open with her fingertips. She then switched the penlight on, and shone it right in her eye. She didn't flinch or move, and the pupil of her eye remained as wide as it had been before. The two women stood completely still like that for some long seconds.

"D-Doesn't that bother you?" Kozumi asked after some time, instinctively checking his wristwatch.

"No." Françoise replied. "If I'm prepared, I can control my eyes without problem. If Miss Mayniel had done this all of a sudden, however, it would have taken me a moment to get used to it."

Kozumi hesitated a moment, baffled. "...I understand." He eventually replied. "B-But now please take a break."

"Alright." The nurse replied before switching off the light and letting go of Françoise's eyelids. She blinked a couple of times, then straightened her pose as best as she could.

"We can have one of her replacement eyes brought to you for examination. Feel free to take them apart and check whatever part of them you want." Gilmore commented.

"...I will, thank you." Kozumi replied, scratching the back of his head.

There was something in the man's attitude, in how incredulous and almost shocked he seemed, that for a moment seemed sincerely endearing to Françoise. "B-But before that, mind if I ask a few things to Miss Arnoul?", Kozumi asked.

"If she has no problem..." Gilmore said, turning his head towards her.

"No. Of course not." Françoise replied, speaking quickly while shaking her head.

"Well then..." Kozumi started. "Good afternoon, miss. Could I ask you your name?"

She gave a glance at Mayniel and at Gilmore, and after not seeing reactions from them she replied: "Françoise."

Kozumi looked lost in thought a few seconds before asking: "Pleased to meet you, miss Françoise. Now, before coming here doctor Gilmore gave me a quick recollection of your situation. There are a few things I'd need to ask you about, in detail."

"Yes, obviously." She answered, forcing a smile. "Ask anything you want, don't worry."

After looking at her in silence for some more, he went on: "What exactly made you want to... volunteer for this? I-I mean, I understand what impulse made you decide to try this, I absolutely do, what I want to know is how you came to know about B.G.'s medical program, or what introduced you to it."

"Friends of friends of the doctor who was visiting me." Françoise explained. "They're also the ones who convinced me to go along with this project. I was going to lose my sight and hearing anyway, given my condition, so I didn't have anything to lose." Those words came out of her mouth with some difficulty, so nervous she was at telling those ridiculous lies. Actually, more than nervous she felt disgusted, given how tasteless that story was - not only because she hadn't actually risked losing any of her senses before being brought here, but also because if anything had gone wrong during the operation she would have actually lost eyesight and hearing. And thinking about that made her feel uneasy.

But thankfully she must have been good enough at hiding how she was actually feeling, since the expression on the man in front of her seemed genuinely sorrowful, and right behind him Gilmore didn't look angry, nor was he glaring at her. But the idea she was going along with this charade, even if she was aware she didn't have any choice, made her feel even worse.

"I understand." Kozumi then said. "Did you have second thoughts about the operation, after you accepted?"

"Yes, many times. I was afraid, obviously, and there was the possibility things could have ended even worse than how they had started, and they weren't beautiful to begin with. But it was either trying this, or wait until I would have been isolated from the world." Françoise told him, averting his sight as soon as she was done talking. The way that man looked at her with sincere sympathy was too much for her to take, while she was lying out of her teeth.

Kozumi nodded, silently. "And after the operation, how long did it take for you to get used to it?"

"Honestly? I don't think I have gotten used to them yet." She answered, looking back up into Kozumi's face. As she did, she also caught a glimpse of Gilmore's expression, a deep frown. What she had said wasn't among the things they had agreed on, hence why he was glaring at her like that. But at the same time, she had been given the freedom to say the truth about her actual physical conditions, and those words did qualify for that. If he was going to complain about it, she would have argued about it - or, at least, she would have tried to. She knew she wasn't too good at speaking out her mind with the doctors.

"In which sense?" Kozumi then asked. "Physically, or is the idea of having working eyes and ears something you still can't get used to after the risk you ran?"

Françoise thought about it for a moment: "I can't get used to it, like you said." She had decided to play it safe, just to be sure Gilmore wouldn't have gotten angry. "And yes, there are also some physical problems as well, but they're slowly going away."

"What kind of physical problems?"

"Well, headaches, problems sleeping... they still happen, occasionally, but they're much more rare now."

"Headaches, you say..."

"As you can imagine, we had to connect her synthetic organs to the rest of her nervous system." Gilmore intervened. "It took quite a while to make it work."

Kozumi turned himself towards the other man. "Did you start working on her after you had developed that synthetic nervous tissues?"

"After, obviously." Gilmore replied, pointedly. "We would have never thought of grafting mechanical eyes and an acoustic apparatus inside a living being without knowing the replacement nerves would have been able to sustain a connection with her brain."

Kozumi looked flabbergasted. "They're connected directly to her brain?" He loudly asked.

"Of course. Like all eyes and ears are, through the optic and acoustic nerves." Gilmore casually answered.

"O-Obviously..." Kozumi commented after some silence. He then turned back towards Françoise, and gave her an awkward looking smile. "Anyway, you are feeling much better now..."

"Yes." She answered, somewhat meekly.

"S-So..." Kozumi started to talk, scratching the back of his head. "Well... I hope you'll fully recover as soon as possible." He then added.

"Huh... thank you..." She replied, nodding slightly.

"Is there anything else you need to ask, professor Kozumi?" Gilmore intervened, sounding slightly impatient.

"Oh, yes... how long have you been recovering?"

"Uhm... I'm not sure... I spent a lot of time unconscious..."

"It's been about seven months since the last extensive surgery." Maynard intervened.

"Exactly. If you want more details about her medical history, we can provide you one of her records. However, they're written in highly specialized jargon, and I don't think you'll be able to get through them on your own." Gilmore added. "I'll call a colleague to explain you--"

"N-No, that will not be necessary." Kozumi answered, turning back towards him. "You already gave me the answer I needed."

"Good. Any other question?" The other man inquired.

After thinking about it for a few moments, Kozumi shook his head. "No, not really."

Gilmore nodded. "In that case, we can go. We have wasted enough of miss Mayniel and Arnoul's time."

"Oh, no, don't worry. It was a pleasure." Françoise replied, using the exact words the other woman had told her to say.

"It should be me the one thanking you for your time." Kozumi answered, turning back towards her and giving her a warm smile. "It was a really interesting and illuminating conversation."

"...glad to have been useful." She said, a bit surprised by his words.

"And I'm glad to have made your acquaintance. I hope you'll get healthy soon, and that you'll be able to get back to enjoying your everyday life."

"So do I, really." Françoise answered, her words coming out of her mouth almost without realizing it, instinctively.

"Well then, take care of yourself." He added, tending out his hand to her. She shook it, and gave him a small smile. After that, Kozumi gave his hand to Mayniel as well, then turned his back to both women and walked next to Gilmore. "Sorry for taking so long..."

Gilmore gave him a sideways glance. "If the occasion was different, I'd say you shouldn't worry about it, but I have a few other things to take care of before meeting with your colleagues." He commented while walking to the door and opening it. "Anyway, let's go. Take care, Miss Mayniel and Miss Arnoul, and see you next time."

"Yes. See you, doctor." The nurse replied, while Françoise only gave a small nod while she looked at the two men walking out.

When the door had finally closed and the two of them were finally alone in the room, Mayniel put her hand on Françoise's shoulder. "[Everything alright?]" She asked.

Françoise nodded. "[I'm a bit tired, that's all.]"

"[I imagine. Do you want to sleep a bit?]"

"[Yes, please.]" She replied.

"[Good. Let's go to the infirmary, you can rest there.]" Mayniel said.

"[Not in my room?]"

"[No. Until Gilmore tells me we're done with these visits, I have the order to keep an eye on you.]"

Disappointed by that answer, Françoise could only nod. "[Good, let's go.]" She replied while standing up.

"[And after that, you're going to eat your meal. And I'll pay attention that you'll eat everything.]" Mayniel said, giving her a smile.

* * *

Gilmore knocked at the door and waited for it to be opened. Only after he had walked inside and the other man had closed, he finally started speaking and returned the greeting he had just received: "Good afternoon to you, doctor Brown. I hope I'm not disturbing."

"No, don't worry." The older man, still in his pajama, said. "I just finished my lunch, and was about to have some coffee. Can I offer you some?"

Gilmore shook his head. "No, thank you, I haven't eaten yet."

"Really? If things are so busy, why are you stopping here?" The man asked while he walked towards his desk.

"I'll go have lunch after our meeting, don't worry. I just needed to come and tell you something immediately."

"Is there some problem?"

"No. All the opposite, in fact. We might soon have a new member in our team." Gilmore replied as a thin, sly smile spread on in face. "I took the liberty to give professor Kozumi a more indepth tour of our facility, and he seemed to enjoy it."

Brown looked very impressed. "Kozumi, huh? The biochemist, right? Having him in our team could really help our work on synthetic materials."

Gilmore nodded. "Right now he's in one of our labs, analyzing some samples, and from the looks of it he seems really taken by it."

"Which samples?" Brown asked as he picked up a mug from his desk, then headed for one of the armchairs on the other side of the room.

"Some nervous tissue and cerebrospinal fluid from 004. He was really impressed, and has asked to be able to talk to him when he'll wake up. I took the liberty of giving him permission of doing so."

Brown had sat down on his armchair, and was sipping his coffee. "Be careful. He might not be as difficult to deal with as 002, but we might never know."

"I know, and I have made sure to take all possible precautions. We will try to keep the meeting as short as possible, and have the meeting take place before the anesthetic has worn off completely. That should help us keep problems to a minimum."

"Hopefully." Brown replied. "Still, it feels like an excessive risk. Meeting with 003 should have been enough."

"To make a good impression on him, we need to be as transparent as we can." He explained.

"Obviously." The other commented before sipping some more coffee. "That said, it's interesting to see you being so proactive in trying to scout someone for our team. Did Kozumi give you an interesting vibe, or is it only his specialization and the fact it might turn out to be useful for us?"

Gilmore raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, an interesting vibe?"

"Let's just say that one might get the feeling your interest in that man isn't professional."

"Explain yourself."

Brown let out a chuckle. "Well, I would have expected someone like you to stick around Bell, rather than a biochemist like Kozumi. I don't think the two of you have much in common, on the professional side."

Gilmore smiled thinly. "You're right. And that's the one of the reasons why I decided to pick him in the group. I had a quick conversation with the three of them, and Bell and Yacoub said they accepted the invitation because of the names involved in this. Kozumi, on the other hand, was attracted by the prospective of an environment were he could have carried out his research freely. I think that a person like him would be more useful for us, and easier to add to our group."

"I shouldn't have expected anything else from you. And while it's a sound logic, I also think you shouldn't be underestimating the importance that personal admiration can have when forming someone for a work like this."

"Are you trying to tell me you have picked people only based on how much they could have been attached to their mentors?" Gilmore asked, clearly amused.

"No, I didn't say I picked them _only_ because of that." He replied. "But it was an important factor in having them stick around."

Gilmore shrugged. "Personally, I'd rather focus on the skills of the people that are going to work for us."

"I see, I see..." Brown commented, a smirk on his face. "Each person has his or her own methods, after all. This is your recruit, and you'll be using your own. Go on, and be careful."

"I will." Gilmore replied. "Anyway, I think I should go now. There are a few things I still need to take care of."

"Obviously. And don't forget to eat lunch, either." Brown said before going back to his coffee.

"That's one thing I'm definitely not going to forget about, don't worry." Gilmore answered, with a cackle. "Take care. When I'll be back, I'm sure I'll be bringing you more positive news." He added before turning around and heading to the door.

As he walked out of the room and closed the door behind himself, a figure standing right in front of him caught his attention. "Good afternoon, miss Mayniel." He greeted her, surprised to see her there.

"Good afternoon, doctor Gilmore." She replied, calmly, a stern expression on her face.

"Is there a problem with 003? Where is she?" He asked, walking next to her.

"She's in the infirmary, resting, since she was feeling tired."

"You were supposed not to leave her alone." Gilmore said, pointedly.

"There's a colleague looking after her right now. I only need ten minutes of your time, nothing more." She replied.

"My time?"

"I have to ask you something in regards to her."

"What, exactly?" Gilmore asked, his curiosity piqued, as he started walking in the direction of the elevators while, with a gesture, he told the nurse to follow him.

"I'd like to listen to the recordings of what happened in the cohabitation room, two nights ago."

Gilmore quickly stopped in his steps and turned his head towards her. "Why?" He asked in a slightly shaky voice.

The woman clearly noticed his reaction, and looked perplexed. She quickly straightened out her expression, and started speaking: "There's a thing I need to check out."

"Tell me what, and stop dancing around the matter." Gilmore replied, composing himself.

"I have the suspect that the other two might have stolen her dinner."

Gilmore looked confused at first, but quickly got back to his more usual blank expression. "And why do you think that? Did she tell you something about it?"

"No, nothing at all. It's a hunch, that's all." She explained.

"Oh, really? Because according to what was written in the report you gave me, she said that her cohabitation with 002 and 004 is going well, and she doesn't have anything bad to say about them."

"I know. But you know her personality, she's not very... how can I put it... active. If something happens, she ignores it to avoid creating bigger problems, and in a case like this--"

"Worrying like that about 003 isn't your job." Gilmore interrupted her. "It's just her health you need to look after."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "It is, actually. Since I'm responsible for her health, I need to know if she's not eating properly because the other two are stealing her food." She replied.

"She hasn't been eating her meals for a few weeks now." He replied. "And the cohabitation experiment started less than a week ago. It has nothing to do with the other two cyborgs."

"Still, I'd like to know if they did take away her meal--"

"Did she eat her lunch today?" Gilmore interrupted her again.

"I tried to make her eat it, but she said she'll eat after her nap." She replied. "I'll make sure she'll finish everything."

Gilmore's expression turned thoughtful. "See? Think about it carefully, and I'm sure you'll find the answer to your question. Now stop bothering me." He said before turning her his back. He took a few steps away, then strode with long steps towards the elevators.

After a moment of confusion, the woman run after him. Gilmore quickly got inside and elevator and pushed one of the buttons, but before the doors had closed completely, she had managed to get in as well. As he found himself face to face with the visibly annoyed woman, who was literally looking down on him, he couldn't help letting some of his surprise and fear show for a moment, before managing to straighten his face.

"First of all, that was incredibly rude, even by your standards." She spat out, catching her breath. "Second, do you have a problem with me listening to those recordings? They're not classified material."

"N-No, they're not."

"They why can't I listen to them? If you behave like this, I have to think of the worst..."

"No, that's not the case. And don't worry, nothing bad happened, you have my word." Gilmore hastily replied.

"If there's no problem, then why can't I--"

"I recorded over them, okay?" He interrupted her once more. As the realization of what he had just said slowly sank in, he started feeling deeply embarrassed, and hoped he hadn't started blushing in front of her.

"You did what?" She asked after recovering from her surprise. Just as she had finished talking, almost on cue, the doors of the elevators opened behind her.

"It's not an important project, my resources are limited and I have to make do." Then, taking advantage of a moment of confusion in the woman, he walked past her and hurried out, but she kept on following him.

"Sorry, but... what?" She asked when she had reached him. "That was your project, and you didn't even--"

"I already have the results I needed." He replied. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm busy."

"No, explain yourself!" She replied, spiritedly. "This is ridiculous, and--"

Gilmore interrupted her by shoving a hand in front of her face and giving her a leer. "Follow me, we'll finish this discussion somewhere private." He then said, firmly. She put a serious expression on her face and nodded.

The two started walking through the corridor, and Gilmore checked every door until he found one open. He looked inside, saw that it was an empty research room, and decided it was good enough. He walked inside and invited Mayniel in as well, then locked the door and turned towards her. The expression on her face was a sneer.

"So, to answer your question, I did record over the tapes from last night. There was nothing worth of notice on them, so I deleted them. I wasn't given much material for my experiment, so I have to resort to that method." He started to explain.

She nodded, her expression not softening in the slightest. "I see. That much I can understand. But there's another thing I'm curious about now: you said you already have the results you need. That's an interesting approach to an experiment, I have to say..." She said, her voice turning openly sarcastic on the last sentence.

Gilmore shrugged. "Admittedly, there was only one thing I wanted to find out, and it's been confirmed very clearly. I'm letting it go on only because, with every day that passes, it provides me with even more confirmation."

"And what was the thing you wanted to find out, if I can ask?" She asked, crossing her arms on her chest.

"You'll find out when I'll write my final report on the experiment." He replied. "Now, if there isn't anything else you need to ask..."

"I could tell doctor Brown about how much you actually care about the project you pestered him about for so long, you know..."

He grinned. "Oh, go ahead and tell him. But after my years of work with him, during which I gave all the dedication I was capable of in every single thing I made, I don't think he'll believe you." He said, his relish in saying those words slipping in his tone a couple of times. "And even if he did, he'll probably forgive me for a small blunder like this, after all this time. And also, if there's something doctor Brown likes less than people not actually invested in their experiment, is people taking their concern towards the cyborgs too personally..."

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you want to see the list of people who were transferred from this place for overstepping their personal boundaries with them? It's quite a long one, believe me." Gilmore replied. "Even people who used to be in positions comparable to the one I'm currently covering are in there. That's one issue for which even people like me are as easily replaceable as you nurses are."

"Then go ahead, I dare you." She replied, her voice firm.

"Don't tempt me. Because I really have half an idea to do so." He answered, giving her a glare.

After he was done talking, silence fell in the room for some time. Mayniel stood silent and looked to her side, until Gilmore took the word once more. "I can assure you, those two treated her well, about as much as you do. They seem to have taken her in sympathy, and take good care of her." Or, at least, that was what 001 had told him a couple of days before. "Besides, I need them to be in good shape for the project, and if they were doing anything to hurt her, I would have had her taken away." To be more honest, 001 would have pestered him to do so.

"Yes, obviously..." She replied.

"Well then." Gilmore replied after a long sigh. "I really must go now, I have a lot of things to take care of. And you should go back to your work as well."

"...yes." She mumbled.

"Good." He added before heading towards the door. When he was right in front of it he stopped still for a moment, and added: "A last word of advice: if you really feel that attached to 003, I suggest you ask to be transferred right now. It will be better for you, trust me."

He finished speaking those words, then opened the door and walked out in the corridor, without even waiting for her answer. Once outside he checked his wristwatch, and headed for the elevators. He should have gone back to the labs, to talk with Bell, but decided to stop to the infirmary first, to get a painkiller or two, the ache from his bruises had suddenly started to get annoying.

* * *

Kozumi finished transcribing the last few things on the notebook, then moved away from the table and stood up from his chair. He took off his glasses, put them in a pocket of his coat and, breathing in deeply, rubbed his eyes.

Feeling a bit tired, he decided to take a break, so he headed for the door and opened it. A guard was standing outside, a different man from the one that was there when he had been brought at the laboratory. It made sense, hours had passed since then.

"Where are you going?" The guard asked.

"Just to the bathroom. I'm taking a five minutes break." Kozumi answered.

"Oh, alright. Down the corridor, to the right."

"Thank you." He replied, giving the man a smile. The other returned the expression, and he headed for the bathroom.

Once inside, he went to the sink and rinsed his face a couple of times. He then stood still, without drying himself up, to feel the chill on his skin. He really needed it, to help himself get rid of the feeling of lightheadedness he got after having spent so much time under the neon lights of that laboratory, and to help himself to get with his feet back to earth.

He raised his head, and looked at his reflection in the mirror in front of himself: _unbelievable_ , he told himself under his breath before rinsing his face another time, for good measure. After this time he took a few paper towels and dried himself up.

He had just spent a few hours analyzing samples that, until a few hours before, he would have imagined belonging only to the realm of science fiction. Biological material recreated in laboratory, with a mix of synthetic and organic elements, that simulated the characteristics of the actual things. He had seen them in function, so to speak, in that young woman, but just the fact that materials like those existed was incredible. And if what they had done to that man was real, the people in this facility had somehow managed to perform a small miracle which made what they had done to that young woman pale by comparison.

And he had been invited to this place, as a guest, and was allowed to share some of the secrets regarding the incredible research they were carrying out here. He had felt honored at first, but now he was elated to be here, and to be able to witness all this.

He had heard a lot of shady things about the people here, the place, and in general about the B. G. group, but after seeing in person what they were doing all his doubts had been completely wiped away. There was just no way that people involved in this kind of research would be doing anything bad: they were giving hope and a new life to people in need of help, it wasn't what the kind of men he had been warned about would do.

But as he thought about this and held onto the feeling, a doubt kept on running into his head: if that was the case, why all the secrecy? This kind of research should have shared with the rest of the world, and the scientists responsible for them should have been hailed as saviors of humanity, every one of them. Yes, even unpleasant people like Gilmore...

Even right now, Kozumi just couldn't get past the way he had referred to that man and the young woman, as cyborgs... they were human beings, just with mechanical parts to replace damaged ones, but he had called them in such a demeaning manner. To think that a person like him, with his personal history, would be acting like that made that creepy side of him even worse to deal with.

And yet, that man was leading the whole project. Even after having met him in person, he could have never imagined something like that. Then again, that went to show that life was indeed full of surprises.

After relieving himself and washing his hands, he put his glasses back on and headed back to the laboratory. Before entering, the guard waiting outside asked him if there was anything else he needed, and gave him a wide smile. It was a good place with actually nice people, Kozumi told himself. That's what he should have focused on, instead of letting his enthusiasm be stifled by people like Gilmore.

Once back in the laboratory, he went back to the notepad and skimmed through its pages: in those few hours he had been in there he had managed to fill a dozen of them with notes, part in English and part in Japanese - whenever he was too surprised by what he had just found out, he instinctively jotted down his thoughts in his native language, even if it would have been easier for him to write things down using the English terms. Too bad he wouldn't have been able to bring those notes along, since the agreement he had signed before coming here forbade that. On the other hand, taking those notes had helped him to better fix things in his mind. Not that he would have been able to carry out any experiment somewhere else, since he had the feeling that the instruments he would have needed to try and replicate those results were ones of a kind, and could have been found only in this facility.

As he thought about this he let out a long sigh, and tossed the notepad on the table in front of himself. His sight run on the objects laying on the table, from the disassembled replacement eye he had been given to study its nervous makeup, to the small vials of synthetic fluid standing next to the various reagents he had used to establish that the liquid was, indeed, what he had been told.

When he had been invited he had been told that this was just a quick visit, to allow the scientists working there to get up to date with the current technologies and scientific discoveries being developed and worked on in the most advanced academic institutes in the world, but it had turned out to be the exact opposite, it seemed.

Suddenly, someone knocked at the door. He stood up and turned towards it, while the guard and Gilmore stepped inside. "How is your research going, professor Kozumi?"

"Very well, doctor Gilmore. Well, that's more of an understatement, heh..." He replied, a bit shaken.

"Unsurprisingly." The other said, a sly grin on his face. "Anyway, I'm here to tell you that our cyborg has woken up. If you want to meet him and exchange a few words, please follow me."

Kozumi held back from making a comment about the word he had just used, and stood up. "Yes, immediately." He then replied as he headed for the door.

The three men walked out of the room and reached the elevator; the trip to the right floor and to the room happened in complete silence.

The place was a simple room with white walls and little to no furniture. Because of this, the bed standing on one side of the room and the humongous pieces of machinery standing around it immediately jumped to Kozumi's eyes. This time he wasn't too surprised to see all those machines, since the presence of all that stuff around the patient's bed made a lot more sense - he just hadn't gotten used to it, and even with that knowledge it still stood out.

As he walked closer he saw the same man that was laying on the bed in the operation room. He was sitting up on the bed, propped up by some pillows behind his back and head, covers pulled up to his waist, and looked still sleepy. Now that he had a better look at him, Kozumi could see how peculiar his face was: he wouldn't have expected it to look as detailed and unique as it was given how, according to what he had been told, it had been completely rebuilt and remodeled. He would have imagined he had just been given some generic looking one.

Kozumi stepped closer, and he saw the expression on the man's face change and turn into a grimace. That, too, caught him by surprise: how could a face made of synthetic materials, like that one, be so expressive looking? He had to hold himself back from running towards the bed and start touching the patient's face. He calmed down, and reached the side of the bed with small steps.

"Uhm... good evening, sir..." Kozumi said after clearing his voice.

" _Wer bist du?_ " Albert replied, slightly slurring his words, before rubbing his face with both hands. Once more Kozumi was surprised, this time by the sound of the other's voice: it was natural, human-like, not artificial sounding in the slightest... Again, the doubt as to why this research wasn't already of public domain surfaced in his mind, but it was quickly overshadowed by the surprise and marvel.

"Oh, yes, I had forgotten to tell you, professor Kozumi." Gilmore said. "This man is German. He also knows English, don't worry, he's just playing around with us..."

"I don't think so. He's clearly still confused, look at him." Kozumi replied. "Anyway, I know some German, let me try... _Guten abend, ich bin ein Gast hier. Ich heiße Kozumi, wie heißen Sie?_ " He then said, looking at Albert.

Albert looked back at him, and let out a small chuckle. " _Sei nicht so förmlich... duzen wir uns._ " He replied. " _Ich bin Albert, nenn mich so._ "

With a gesture, Gilmore called one of the doctors next to him, and whispered something in his ear. Immediately after, the man mumbled something back to him, while Gilmore nodded. "Doing some small talk to break the ice?" He then commented out loud.

" _Ah, du verstehst mich..._ " Albert said, his head hanging as he turned to look at the doctor.

The man standing next to Gilmore whispered something in his ear. "I don't. I'm having doctor Ryan here explain what you're saying." He then said out loud.

"Er... sorry for keeping you out of the conversation..." Kozumi mumbled.

"Don't worry, please go ahead. Must be enjoyable, finding someone who speaks your own language..."

Kozumi gave Gilmore a quick glare, then looked back at Albert: "So, Albert... _freut mich. Wie geht's?_ "

" _Ich fühle mich taub._ " He answered in the same slurred manner. He then turned towards Gilmore and added: " _Du hast mich operiert, nicht wahr?_ "

"We simply allowed professor Kozumi to check you out." Gilmore explained after Ryan had translated to him.

Albert turned his head back toward Kozumi. " _Ach, ja, ich erinnere mich jetzt. Hast du mich interessant gefunden?_ " He asked in a tone that Kozumi guessed was supposed to be sarcastic, but didn't really manage to sound so, given the man's state.

"Heh..." Kozumi mumbled under his breath, embarrassed. What was he supposed to answer to a question like that, without making that man feel like he was some sort of guinea pig? He couldn't blame himself for what he had just said, had never had to deal with a situation like that before, thankfully.

Eventually he decided to treat that question as a simple sarcastic remark, and move on to a slightly different argument. But what? Right in that moment any question he had for that man would have been in regard to his body, and that would have made things worse.

After some thinking, he raised his hand and put up all fingers except for one. " _Wie viele Finger siehst du?_ " He then asked.

Albert looked at him weirdly, then replied: " _Vier._ "

" _Sehr gut._ " Kozumi answered, nodding. " _Ich werde dich jetzt in Ruhe lassen._ "

" _Ist das alles?_ " Albert asked, looking even more confused than before. " _Wirklich? Schon vorbei?_ "

Kozumi nodded. " _Du musst dich ausruhen. War mir ein Vergnügen._ "

After giving the other a long, careful look, Albert put a thin smile on his face and replied: " _Jederzeit wieder._ "

"That's all?" Gilmore intervened, his voice sounding genuinely surprised.

"Yes." Kozumi replied. "This man needs some rest, and I don't want to push him too much."

After giving a long glance at Albert, Gilmore said: "Can't say I disagree, we should really leave him alone for the moment." Then, looking at the other people gathered around the room, ordered: "Call me when he's fully recovered. I have a few things to take care of now."

"Sure." One of the people standing around the bed said.

Gilmore then turned towards Kozumi and, with a gesture, showed him the door. "If you could please follow me, professor..."

Kozumi gave Albert a last glance, and waved at him.

" _Tschüss._ " Albert replied, giving him a smile, before Kozumi turned around and walked away behind Gilmore.

Once they were outside of the room, they walked through the corridor in silence for a while. "I didn't know you also spoke German." Gilmore started.

"I have some relatives in Düsseldorf." Kozumi explained.

"I see..." He commented. "Anyway, I hope you did manage to find out everything you wanted to know about him..."

Kozumi nodded.

"Still, you shouldn't have been so soft with him. He's not a frail man, and I'm not saying that only because of his body. He's fluent in English, he was just playing around with you."

"No, I have to disagree. He honestly looked tired, even if his face might not have shown it in full." Kozumi replied. "Talking about which... the face, and the whole cranium, they're really completely rebuilt, right?"

"Yes."

At that reply, Kozumi stopped in his steps and turned towards Gilmore. "What exactly happened to that man?"

"An accident." He explained. "His body was so heavily damaged, the doctors who had him in their cure were starting to think he would have been forced to be bedridden for the rest of his life. Knowing this, we proposed him to take part to the experiment, and initially we only attached some prostethic limbs to his body, to make him as self sufficient as it was possible. As time passed, however, we realized that his organic parts were too damaged to sustain the artificial ones, so we decided to go in the drastic direction you just saw."

Kozumi listened in silence, nodding to himself every once in a while. "So, most of him is actually artificial and rebuilt..." He commented, as the enormity of the implications of what that meant started to sink in in full.

"There are still some issues, however. His body doesn't always respond to the impulses from the brain, and at times they tend to miscommunicate."

"I can only imagine..."

"And that's where someone like you could really help us with this." Gilmore then said, his voice suddenly so soft and gentle it took Kozumi by surprise. "As you know, the chemicals in one's brain and nervous system are responsible for that person working properly. They even directly influence emotions, don't they?"

Kozumi widened his eyes in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. It took him some time to fully process the words he had just heard. "You need my help?"

Gilmore chuckled, then walked closer to the other man and patted a hand on his shoulder. "I know, this was supposed to be a simple visit, a meeting to exchange ideas. At least, that's what people in the higher echelons told us. However, after receiving your curriculum and doing some research on the articles you recently published, I have come to the conclusion that someone like you shouldn't just be a guest here, but a regular."

Still too dumbfounded by those words, Kozumi just stared at the other.

"Usually, we wouldn't show what you just saw to all visitors. There's a reason why I thought you would have been worth of such an honor." Gilmore went on. "And I think you can guess what it is, by this point."

Kozumi stood speechless, and kept on looking at Gilmore. "Are you being serious?" He finally managed to say.

Gilmore let out a small laugh. "Your expertise and skills are going to be needed here. Just think what we would be able with those two, with your help."

Again, Kozumi remained silent, his mouth ajar, for a while before replying: "That... it would be an honor..."

The expression on Gilmore's face turned into a wide smile. "It's not something you have to decide on the spot, don't worry. You'll have all the time you need to think about it and to consider this possibility from all perspectives. Just be aware of the fact that, if you decide so, you will be welcome with open arms."

The other nodded. "Thank you... I will be thinking about it... there are a lot of things I need to take into consideration..."

"Understandably." Gilmore replied. "And while I don't want to pressure you, if you're really interested into this, how about you stay here for a few more hours tomorrow?"

"Huh?" Kozumi mumbled, confused. "A few more hours?"

"Yes. There are some things I should show you, to give you a little more information regarding the project. That way, you'll have all the knowledge you need to be able to make your decision."

The man looked lost in thought for a few moments. "How many more hours?"

"You'll be able to leave the facility before dinnertime. Unless you decide to stop by and have dinner with us."

"Alright." Kozumi replied, nodding, after thinking about it for some time. "I'll stay here a bit longer."

Gilmore's smile grew wider. "Well then." He replied, nodding. Then, after checking his wristwatch, he added: "Anyway, talking about dinner, it's almost time and we should start going."

"Oh, already?" The other commented after checking his own watch.

"Yes. Let's go." Gilmore replied, starting again to walk towards the elevator. The two walked in, and the doors closed. "By the way, I hope you realize this means you shouldn't be talking about what you just saw with your colleagues. You can say you'll stay here longer, but nothing else."

Kozumi nodded. "Well, technically they're not my colleagues, but I understand what you mean, heh..." He then said with a chuckle that quickly died out when he realized that Gilmore wasn't laughing along, the usual stern, deadpan expression back on his face. He let out a small cough to mask his cackle, and quickly composed himself as the feeling of annoyance and discomfort at being around the other man started once more to seep in.

Had this man just acted like that to butter him up, or was he seriously incapable of sense of humor? Regardless, not even that seemed to shake away the feeling of happiness he was feeling after having been proposed to work at that place: it would have still taken him some time to fully wrap his head around that, but he was incredibly happy already.

The elevator reached their floor, and they walked out. He kept following Gilmore until they were right in front of the doors of the cafeteria.

"I apologize if I can't join you and everyone else at the moment, but I still have a few things to work on. But tomorrow we'll have the time to talk." Gilmore said.

"Obviously." Kozumi nodded. "Well, thanks for everything, and if we don't see each other for the rest of the day, good evening and good night."

"Same to you. Well then." Gilmore replied before turning back and walking towards the elevators. After seeing him leave, Kozumi let out a sigh of relief and felt his chest less heavy, feeling like he could fully concentrate on how overjoyed the proposal he had received made him feel. He walked inside the cafeteria, waited in queue for his dinner and looked for the other two guests among the people already sitting at their tables. He immediately found them at the same places where they had been sitting during breakfast, along with the same people from that morning.

"Oh, doctor Kozumi." Gaia said when he saw him, waving his hand to tell him to get closer.

"Good evening, everyone." He greeted the group as walked towards the table. "Hope I didn't make you wait too long..."

"Well, I finished half an hour ago, and doctor Bell arrived here some minutes later." Yacoub commented. "But we had company, we definitely didn't get bored." He then added, nodding his head in the general direction of where Gaia was sitting.

"Good to hear." Kozumi replied.

"At least, did you enjoy your visit here?" Gaia intervened.

"Immensely!" Kozumi said, enthusiastically. "I would have never imagined the scope and extent of the research you carry out at a place like this... I was blown away."

Gaia smirked. "Glad to know you are. From what I've heard, Gilmore seems to have taken a shine to you..."

At the mention of that man's name, Kozumi felt a shiver up his spine. "Well... let's say he just thinks I could be useful here. He has been pretty straightforward about it."

"Oh, really?" Bell intervened, suddenly interested in the conversation.

Kozumi nodded. "He asked me to stay until tomorrow afternoon, so I'm afraid that I won't be leaving with you tomorrow morning." He explained, looking at Bell and Yacoub.

When he was done talking, Gaia let out a whistle. "Wow, really?" The expression on his face was visibly shocked, and Kozumi couldn't help feeling slightly uncomfortable about it.

Noticing it, Crofts looked at Kozumi and started to explain: "Let me tell you, if you did manage to impress someone like Gilmore, you really have some potential in you."

Kozumi nervously scratched his nape. "Well... I'm flattered, r-really..."

"That man is a rigorous perfectionist, I've been able to glean that from rumors and his research." Bell explained, looking impressed.

"He surely is." Crofts added. "He might not be the easiest person to go along with, as you might have noticed, but when it comes to work there are few people in this facility that can keep up with him."

"Indeed." Gaia commented.

Not knowing what to reply, Kozumi looked down at the tray with his lunch, his face growing flushed. Thankfully, his embarrassment was interrupted by a laugh.

"Calm down now, sirs, you're putting pressure on this man." It was Yacoub, speaking calmly.

"Y-Yes... what he's saying..." Kozumi mumbled.

"Oh, sorry. We didn't mean to..." Bell said.

"N-No, it's alright." He replied, calming down enough to be able to give the other man a sincere, calm smile.

"Yes, we apologize too if we made you feel uncomfortable. It's just that something like that doesn't happen too often, heh..." Crofts replied.

"Indeed. Sorry for that." Gaia chimed in.

Kozumi nodded in silence, feeling better but still a bit nervous, and slowly started to dig into his meal. Thankfully, after that, the rest of the dinner went on calmly enough, as the other men around the table had seemingly decided to change argument, and had gone on to make some small talk instead.

* * *

When the lock of the door clicked open, Jet was laying on his bed. He sat up, ready to greet whoever he was, and as he did he realized his heart was racing. He decided to ignore that, and put his usual deadpan face on.

The door opened, revealing the figures of 003, a couple of guards and a nurse.

"Welcome back." He greeted her, calmly.

"Hi there, 002." Françoise said, giving him a smile.

"Dinner will be served in half an hour." One of the guards said.

Françoise turned around and nodded, looking at the nurse standing on the doorstep. The women exchanged a glance, then the guards closed the door, leaving the two of them alone.

Jet jumped off his bed and went to sit on one of the chairs. "Hey there 003, welcome back. How was you day?"

She let out a sigh and sat on the chair right in front of his. "Boring." She replied while, with her hand, she pointed at the four corners of the room, to silently warn Jet that the microphones in the room were still working.

"Oh, I see..." He calmly answered, to keep the small talk going. "I know how that feels, there wasn't much to do here, either..."

"I guess." She replied. "They just brought me to see some new doctor, he asked me some questions and checked my eyes and ears, and that was it."

"Really? I did something like that too, time ago..."

"Interesting..." Françoise commented, as she stood up and went to get pen and paper from under the pillow on Albert's bed. "I wonder if they did the same with 004 too."

"We'll have to wait for him and ask. Anyway, do you feel like doing some conversation tonight?"

"Just a few minutes, I'm tired." She explained while sitting back down at the table and scribbling something on the sheet.

"Of course, don't worry. Say what you want." He replied.

"Okay then, let's start..." She replied while passing him the paper. Then, after that, she started to do some small talk about what her favorite dishes were.

 _Is there a problem? I can hear your heart beating really fast_ , it said. Seeing those words, Jet remained dumbfounded in surprise for a while, and it took him some time before reaching out with for the pen.

 _You're worried about me after yesterday?_ He wrote down in a nervous calligraphy.

Françoise read his reply and looked at him, surprised, and stopped talking for a moment. Recovered from that small shock, she started talking again, picked the pen and replied: _Of course. I'm even more worried because of last evening. Is everything alright?_

Jet wrote back: _Right now yes. I'm just nervous. Sorry about yesterday, I didn't mean to do that. I hope you're not hurt_

 _No, don't worry. Compared to the hits I take during training, it was nothing._ Francoise replied. Then, before passing Jet the sheet, she added: _Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?_

He thought about it for some time, tapping the pen on his arm a few times and starting to correct her out loud before writing down his answer: _Not now. When the microphones will be off_

Françoise read the reply, then gave him a smile put her hand on his, squeezing gently. He smiled back, feeling much more calm, although still not completely so.

They went on pretending to do some practice for another while, until he noise of the lock being opened got their attention. Françoise quickly put the paper and the pen on the chair, and sat down on them.

The door opened and the guards pushed Albert inside without saying a word, and closed immediately after. He looked a bit strange, Jet noticed, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what was off with him, exactly.

"Hi." Albert said, laconically, before sitting at the table with the other two.

"Welcome back, 004." Françoise replied before taking pen and paper and putting them back on the table.

"Yeah, welcome back." Jet added. "How are you doing?"

"Could be better..." He mumbled. "I slept until not too long ago, and I'm feeling strange..." He added while reaching out for the pen and starting to write.

"You slept?" The other man commented.

"Yes. They put me to sleep and showed me to some guy I never saw before. I even talked with him for a few minutes." Albert explained.

"I saw him too. It was a Chinese man, with a beard." Françoise commented.

"He was Japanese. He said his name was Kozumi." Albert pointed out, stopping to write for a moment.

"Oh, really? I'm not too familiar with that, sorry..."

"Don't worry about it." Albert replied, giving her a smile and starting to write again.

"Was it the same person you met, 002?" Françoise asked.

Jet shook his head. "No, none of the guys that visited me looked Japanese."

"I see..." She commented. "Anyway, he seemed nice..."

"Doesn't mean he actually is." Jet added. He was about to add something, but he remembered about the microphones and decided not to go further - as much as he would have wanted to, if only to vent out.

As he was done writing, Albert pushed the paper in front of Jet and Françoise, and they read through it.

_I couldn't give him the message, I'm sorry. They put me to sleep and said that guy was going to visit me, so I had to get rid of it. I'm really sorry_

Both Jet and Françoise stood speechless for a few moments. Eventually, she reached out, took the pen and wrote her answer.

_You don't have to feel sorry, it's not your fault. What's important is that you're fine. They didn't find the message on you, did they?_

Albert jotted down his reply. _No, they didn't. I'm alright._

Despite his reply, the expression on his face was dreary. Françoise tried to write down a reply, but before she could get the pen Jet had preceded her.

 _It was 001 he told them about the message it's his fault_ , he wrote with nervous and almost violent gestures, so much he tore a piece of paper from the sheet with the pen.

 _How can you be sure of it?_ , Albert wrote down as a reply.

 _Do you need more evidence by this point?_ , he wrote before glaring at the other man, a grin on his face. If he needed anything else to confirm his doubts about 001, this would have been it.

Albert took the pen and started to write a reply, but before he could finish the noise of window in the door openining reached his ears. He quickly hid paper and pen, and waited for the guards to call them.

* * *

Gilmore was the last one to enter the meeting room, as soon as he was finished with every other errand he had to carry out - with the exception of reporting to Brown about the day, obviously. That would have had to wait until after this meeting was done.

"Good evening." He greeted the men sitting at the table as we walked towards his chair. He sat down and the others returned the salutation, as if they had been respectfully waiting for him to make himself comfortable before doing so.

"Looking kind of tired today." Gaia commented, receiving a glare in return. The man just let out a chuckle, and leaned against the back of the chair. "Then again, you're the one who decided to prolong this until tomorrow evening, so..."

"That's exactly what I want to talk about, and why I called you all here." Gilmore then said. "That, and obviously reporting about what happened today."

"I see..." Gaia commented. "So, apparently you took a liking to that Kozumi..."

"I didn't take a liking to him. I read through some of his papers, and thought that his work might be very useful to us and our project." Gilmore explained.

"Given the current situation in our research, we had imagined your attention would have focused on that man." Crofts replied. "I haven't read anything he wrote, it's not exactly my field, but from what I've heard he could really be useful to us."

"Indeed." Gaia said. "All my jokes and irony aside, I have to say he would be an important addition to our team. However, we don't know whether that man can be trustworthy or not."

"Yes. Given today's protocol, it's unlikely he knows about the real extent of our work."

Gilmore nodded in silence. "And that's why I decided to keep him here for tomorrow as well. I kept up the act, following the protocol we have been given by Skull himself, but he seems to be sincerely interested in working here. His interest seem to be focused on the kind of high tech research we do here, so there's a chance he might be pulled to our side eventually." He explained. "If my impression is confirmed tomorrow, I will send my recommendation to the higher echelons, and they will take care of everything else, according to procedure. They will study the case, and find the most persuasive methods."

"Very well." Crofts replied, nodding.

"Sounds like a good idea..." Gamo chimed in, interrupting his sentence halfway through. Gilmore noticed this and turned towards the man, staring right into his face.

"But?" He eventually asked, realizing he wasn't going to get a direct answer just by looking at the other.

"But what are we going to do about the cyborgs tomorrow? We were supposed to have a training session starting tomorrow evening." The man said.

"Oh, yes. I had almost forgotten, thanks for pointing that out." Gilmore replied, keeping his voice as flat as he could manage. "Anyway, 002, 003 and 004 will stay in their room for the day, and the training will be postponed to the day after tomorrow. A day of rest will do them good." He explained.

"And 001?" Gamo asked after some silence. Gilmore smirked thinly: he had left Ivan out of the explanation on purpose, to see his reaction. And it had turned out to be exactly the one he had expected.

"001 will stay in the isolation room a bit longer." He explained after straightening his face. "We need to avoid any possible accident, and our only safe bet he won't be using his powers to try and create some mess is by leaving him in there."

"What?" Gamo blurted out, leaping up from his seat. "But he's been acting well in the last few weeks!"

"Calm down, doctor Whisky." Gaia replied.

"Indeed." Gilmore replied, nodding. "Besides, why are you so worried about 001?"

Gamo looked at the other people in the room, and saw that all their eyes were on him. He focused his sight on Gilmore and replied: "Because keeping him in that room for that long could cause some damage to him. Do you want a repeat of the accident from three years ago?"

"Obviously not." The other man calmly answered. "However, according to our tests, 001 can withstand staying in that room for about fifty hours without any problem. When he'll get out of there he'll be as good as usual."

"It's still going to put a lot of stress on him." Gamo said. "What if, when he recovers, he decides to lash out for that?"

"We'll think about it when it will be time." Crofts replied.

"Exactly." Gilmore added. "If he wants to lash out and start destroying stuff in the facility as a form of revenge, we'll take the risk. After that he might even fall asleep for the fatigue, which isn't bad for us. But right now our priority is that we don't give our guests any strange impression. And 001 is a high risk subject. He'll stay in the room until Kozumi is gone."

"But what if staying there causes damages to his brain, or to his prosthetics?" Gamo quickly asked.

"I already told you, he can resist much more than that. If there's something wrong with him, we'll fix it." Gilmore explained. "You are worrying too much, doctor Whisky."

"He's worrying more than someone like he should, I'd say." Gaia intervened, smirking and looking intently at Gamo.

"We can't risk ruining one of our projects like this." The other man replied. "If we cause some permanent damage to any of the test subjects--"

"We can get others." Gilmore interrupted him. "There's nothing wrong with worrying about the experiment, but you're so insistent about this, it feels like your concern goes well beyond the professional field..."

For a moment Gamo dropped his poker face, and looked at Gilmore with an annoyed expression. He managed to compose himself just as quickly, and replied: "You seemed to be worried as well, up until a few days ago."

"It's because, as I said, I worry about the possibility of something abruptly interrupting this project." He answered, without missing a beat. "But there's a big difference between justified concern about our test subjects breaking down and your almost paranoid worry."

Gamo gave him a leer, then sat down and crossed his arms on his chest.

Gilmore smirked. He couldn't help himself, he loved screwing around with that annoying man and manage to get the upper hand on him, whatever the argument was. He put a more neutral expression back on his face and added: "Besides, he takes a fifteen minutes break every two hours, and we make sure he's properly fed, and everything else. You don't have to worry about him."

Gamo mumbled something in Russian, some dialectal expression Gilmore couldn't fully make out, then looked at the other man. "You're in charge, the decision is yours." He said. "It also means that, if there's some problem, you'll be the one to respond of it."

"I will, don't you worry. I will." Gilmore replied, pointedly. A few seconds of silence followed his sentence, during which some of the men sitting around the table exchanged looks and thin grins. Eventually he cleared his throat, and got their attention. "Well then, if we're finally done with this, where were we?"

* * *

He finished counting the seconds of yet another minutes, and still nothing. He changed position in his bed once more and let some time pass, but it didn't make the slightest difference. Tired of waiting, Kozumi stood up from his bed and switched on the lights; he wasn't feeling asleep in the slightest. Weird, since he felt completely and utterly wiped.

But it was something that always happened when he took sleeping pills to deal with a long flight, he would have problems falling asleep during the following night. But this time he was also feeling anxious, which made it even worse.

As he walked in circles around the room, he wondered what he could have done; he had a few more sleep pills, but was afraid that those could have just worsened the situation, so he needed another approach. Given the place he was in, they probably had something that could have helped him sleep and not caused physical problems - or, failing that, some milk or chamomille.

He put on a dressing gown, opened the door and looked around the corridor carefully, waiting for someone to pass by. According to what he had been told before being brought back to his room, if he needed something all he had to do was going out and ask the guard looking after the corridor, and please be quiet about it to avoid waking up the nurses and the personnel who were sleeping in that wing of the building.

Kozumi gave a thorough check, but right now there seemed to be nobody around. He walked to the end of it, hoping there was someone there, but still nothing. He wondered whether he should have been waiting another few minutes, just to be safe, or go back to his room right away and try again later. After all, maybe the guard had just taken a break.

With that thought, he decided to look around some more, to check if someone else was around - maybe another guard, or a janitor, or anyone going back to his or her room. But if he didn't find anyone, what was he going to do? Should he have given up altogether, and went back to his room like that?

As he kept on wondering about what to do, the noise of someone's footsteps started getting closer got more and more clear. He headed in that direction, hoping it was the guard - if not, he could have just asked about where to go and ask.

He reached the main corridor and he saw the origin of the noise he had heard. The figure in front of his eyes was that of a short but stout looking man, walking with long and heavy steps and an angry-looking expression on his face. For a moment Kozumi was tempted to just walk back and don't disturb that man, he didn't look like he was going to be of much help in that moment. But then, all of a sudden, he realized something.

"Doctor Gamo Torski?" Kozumi said out loud, and the man stopped in his steps and turned around, in the direction where Kozumi's voice was coming. The expression on his face was in equal measure confused and surprised.

The man stepped towards him, and as he got closer Kozumi could see more clearly his face, and any doubt he had had until that moment was completely gone: that man really looked like Gamo Torski, only slightly older. But if that was him, what was he doing at a place like that?

When the two were finally face to face, Gamo looked at the other in complete silence for another while, the same dumbfounded expression on his face. Then, after some seconds, he broke into a smile and let out a small laugh. "Yes, it's indeed me. You shouldn't be calling me that in here, however." He said casually while speaking low, almost under his breath.

The tone the other man had used left Kozumi baffled. So, that man was really Torski, he wasn't just some lookalike. "What are you doing in there?"

Gamo laughed again. "It's a long and complicated story, you wouldn't believe half of it."

"I guess..." Kozumi mumbled. "I mean, I heard you were dead..."

"As you can see, those rumors were wildly exaggerated." Gamo commented, sarcastically. "I was forced to leave the Soviet Union in secret, that much is true, and I can imagine it gave birth to a lot of rumors. But I can assure you it had nothing to do with politics."

"And why?"

"I'd rather not say." Gamo replied.

"So it was something political!"

Gamo shook his head. "It had to do with issues in my family, and that's all I'm willing to tell. Feel free not to believe me if you prefer, but that's the truth."

Kozumi hesitated for a moment, unsure about what to say: whether it was those alleged family issues or an actual political problem, he felt like keeping on enquiring in that direction would have been tasteless either way, so he decided to drop that argument. "I see... a-anyway, I'm so surprised to see you here, of all places... actually, to see you at all, heh..."

"And I'm surprised that you, of all people, recognized me." Gamo replied. "But I suppose my face must have been everywhere, after I disappeared..."

Kozumi shook his head. "No, I knew about your work for some time. I read all the research you worked on at Moscow University."

Gamo was surprised. "You're talking about my old papers on the chemical reactions in the human brain, right? I suppose those might have interested a biochemist like you."

"Your articles changed my way of looking at my research, doctor Torski. In a way you couldn't imagine." He replied. He could still remember all of them, and could have quoted entire paragraphs by memory, if he had wanted to.

"Really? Even my later stuff?" He asked, a hint of irony in his voice.

"Er... no, not really..." Kozumi replied, embarrassed. Of course he could also remember those other articles he had written, a few months before his disappearance: they talked the untapped potential of the human brain, and how a simple surgery could have unleashed powers beyond anyone's expectations. Those articles brought up the discredited theory about how humans used only a small part of their brain, and other similar pseudo-scientific mumbo-jumbo. Back in the day most scientists had decided to ignore it, and just chalked it up to the stress the man was dealing with due to the condition that the man's newborn son was going through. Other theories went for a more conspirationist route, and according to them the man was writing in code and trying to send some coded message to someone on the other side of the iron curtain.

Unsurprisingly the truth had never been found out, but all kinds of speculations run rampant, and nobody ever had the faintest idea what could have happened to that man - until today, at least.

Gamo smiled again. "Can't blame you." He said. As he was speaking, the lights on the panels above the elevators on the other side of the corridor lit up, signaling that one was about to arrive at their floor. "Anyway, you should probably leave before someone sees you talking to me. As I said, I shouldn't be here."

"W-Wait, what?"

"Didn't I tell you already? Long story, you wouldn't believe it." Gamo replied. "I go by the name Whisky right now, just to give you an idea how ridiculous it is."

"Whisky?" Kozumi replied, baffled.

"Yes. The people who fabricated the documents to let me leave my country either knew no Russian at all, or had a pretty terrible sense of humor. Possibly both." He explained. "Again, this is a ridiculous place, in many different ways."

"A moment, professor Torski--"

"Don't call me that, I told you." Gamo interrupted him. "Even if it was nice to hear my name after so long."

Kozumi stood dumbfounded for a few moments, trying to think of a good reply. Before anything could come to his mind, Gamo looked at him: "Well, I really must go, the elevator is almost here. Take care, and remember, you never saw me. Goodnight." He said before turning him his back and walking away at a brisk pace.

Kozumi was still there, confused and unable to think of a good reaction, until the sound of the doors of the elevator opening snapped him back to reality. He quickly turned back and, after saying hello to the people walking out of it, got back to his room. He got inside and closed the door, then headed for the bathroom to rinse his face.

It took him some time to completely come to terms with the fact that yes, he had just casually spoken with a man that, by all accounts, was supposed to be dead, or rotting away in some cell somewhere in the Soviet Union. And what he had just told him... it was difficult for him to put the pieces together and have them make sense, especially right now, as agitated as he was.

He walked out of the bathroom and reached his baggage, produced a small container of sleeping pills from it and swallowed a couple of them. He really needed to sleep on it, so that tomorrow he could have been able to think about everything with a clear mind. Plus, he needed to be rested and calm when talking with Gilmore about whether or not he would have stayed there.

Yes, that talk he was supposed to have with Gilmore. After having spoken to Torski, it would have been a completely different meeting from what he had imagined it - hopefully he would have been able to think about things in a more straightforward manner.

'This is a ridiculous place', Torski had said. Little by little, as he waited for his sleep to take him over, a few details from the day he had just passed slowly started to bubble up in his mind. Before he could manage to put them together, however, he had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Что ты делаешь здесь, и зачем - What are you doing here, and why--  
> А почему - And why-- 
> 
> Wer bist du? - Who are you?  
> Guten abend, ich bin ein Gast hier. Ich heiße Kozumi, wie heißen Sie? - Good evening, I'm a guest here. My name is Kozumi, what's your name?  
> Sei nicht so förmlich... duzen wir uns. Ich bin Albert, nenn mich so - Don't be so formal... let's call us by name. I'm Albert, call me that  
> Ah, du verstehst mich... - Oh, you understand me...  
> Freut mich. Wie geht's? - I'm glad. How are you?  
> Ich fühle mich taub - I feel numb  
> Du hast mich operiert, nicht wahr? - You operated me, didn't you?  
> Ach, ja, ich erinnere mich jetzt. Hast du mich interessant gefunden? - Oh, yes, I remember now. Did you find me interesting?  
> Wie viele Finger siehst du? - How many fingers do you see?  
> Vier - Four  
> Sehr gut. Ich werde dich jetzt in Ruhe lassen - Very good. I'll leave you alone now.  
> Das ist alles? Wirklich? Schon vorbei? - Is this all? Really? Over already?  
> Du musst dich ausruhen. War mir ein Vergnügen - You have to rest. It was a pleasure.  
> Jederzeit wieder - Any time  
> Tschüss - Bye


	6. Day 6 (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be split in two, as you can see. As I was proofreading and doing some rewriting, it turned out to be way more long than I expected. Working on betaing the whole update in one sitting was turning into a real time consuming chore, so I decided to cut it in half and post this part by itself, if only to give myself some room to breathe and get one part of it out of my mind for the moment.
> 
> I'll probably merge the two halves in the future, in another update. I won't be doing this again, hopefully.

There were some blows at the door, and a voice called out his name. Gilmore heard the noise, but decided to ignore it and instead tossed around in his bed. _Just a nightmare_ , he told himself as he buried his head under the pillow, trying to hang on to his sleep.

"Gilmore! It's urgent!" The voice called again, this time louder, as the hits against the door grew more insistent.

Despite his best efforts, Gilmore wasn't able to ignore it any longer. "Yes, yes, I get it!" He shouted, his voice hoarse and uneven.

"Are you awake, Gilmore?" The man outside the door asked.

"Give me a minute..." He replied. As he slowly came to, he realized that the man calling him was Gaia. Of all people. He walked to the door and opened it, not even bothering to make himself presentable first.

"Morning, doctor Gilmore." The other man greeted him after a moment of surprise.

"What's going on?" Gilmore said. As he spoke, his attention was caught for a moment by a couple of colleagues, running down the corridor without even looking around.

"Another unexpected early reunion. This time in the meeting room in the east wing." The other calmly explained.

The meeting room in the east wing? That didn't have a projector, so it didn't have anything to do with Skull. He felt slightly more relaxed, and asked: "And why? Do we know that already?"

"It's Brown, he has something serious and urgent to tell all of us. No clue what that is, though."

With that, Gilmore was once again back on edge: if Brown had decided to come out of his room during a protocol B, it must have been really serious. "When does the meeting start?"

"As soon as everyone is in the room. So hurry up, the earlier it starts, the quicker it will end." Gaia replied. Then, almost casually, he turned around and walked away.

"Okay... I'll be there in ten minutes!" Gilmore shouted at Gaia, before getting back in and slamming the door closed.

He headed to his nightstand to check the time, and saw it wasn't even six yet. That made him even more nervous: just what could have happened, to get Brown out of his bed that early in the morning? He rushed to the bathroom, quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face, then dressed and headed out of his room, to one of the elevators. As he waited, the dull pain from his bruises started to rear its head again, but for the moment it wasn't anything he couldn't bear, thankfully.

When he was out of the elevator and on the right floor, it was impossible to miss the small commotion outside the meeting room - an understandable occurrence, given how sudden this meeting was. Instead of stopping by to hear what they were saying he decided to walk in; it was likely Brown was there already, so he could have saved himself the time and the annoyance of having to sift through pointless chatter, and asked him right away.

His guess was correct, as he walked inside he saw the man already sitting at the head of table, his usual place; the expression on his face was so angry it gave Gilmore pause. On the bright side, at least the man didn't look as tired as he had in the last few days.

After recovering from that small shock, Gilmore slowly reached the other's side, trying to look and act nonchalant. "Good morning, doctor Brown. What's the problem?" He asked, calmly.

Brown turned his head towards the other, his face turning ever so slightly more kind but without getting even close to actually cracking a smile. "Good morning, Gilmore. There's something serious going on, as you'll soon hear." He replied. "Something that has to do with you and your project as well, in a way." He then added, a clearly affected dramatic tone in his voice.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Please sit down." Brown said, pointing to the chair next to his. Gilmore did as he was being asked, and the older man went on: "Anyway, since I'm going to have another free day, or at least an afternoon, could I have the recordings of the cyborgs' room?"

"Oh, of course." He replied, nodding. "I'll have the recordings from last evening brought to you as soon as we're done with the meeting."

"Take your time, I think there will be a few things to do when the meeting will be over and before I can get back to my room." Brown said with a half smile before putting back his usual stern expression. He then looked towards the door as their colleagues, some already in their white gowns and some in more informal clothes, walked into the room and took a seat at the table.

Gilmore waited in complete silence for Brown to say something, but it looked like the man was too concentrated on rehearsing whatever he had planned in is mind. He had no hoped of getting much from his superior for the moment, he concluded.

After some time, when people stopped pouring in, Brown stood up and proclaimed: "Well then, we're all here. Someone shut the door."

"Immediately!" A colleague sitting the other side of the room said, standing up and doing as the other had asked.

"Good." Brown commented before clearing his voice. "First of all, allow me to apologize to all of you for waking you up this early in the morning, but this is an extraordinary case." He explained, staring down every man sitting at the table, one after the other, until his sight stopped on Gamo.

Noticing he was being looked at, the man let out a small, throaty laugh, which caused everyone else to turn their attention on him.

"Yes, doctor Whisky, exactly. You can all thank him for this rough early awakening." Brown said, dryly.

"You could have just called me to your office and talked to me in person, you know." Gamo replied.

"I think that what you did deserves to be shared with as many people as possible. Just so you won't be able to escape your responsibilities." The other answered, his voice dripping contempt, while glaring at the other.

"What did Whisky do?" Gaia asked.

Brown composed himself and started talking: "Last night, at around two, he was walking around in the corridor where the sleeping rooms of our guests are. As if breaking the protocol wasn't enough, he also had a conversation with professor Kozumi. We have video records of the event." He made a short pause, during which some of the doctors exchanged looks and whispered something to each other. Gilmore was tempted to jump to his feet, slam his hands on the table and shout at Gamo but held back, not wanting to interrupt Brown as he laid out his reasons.

Gamo looked around, then nodded. "Indeed, it's all true--"

"What the hell were you doing there, then?" Brown interrupted him, his voice altered once again.

"Going somewhere." The other replied, calmly and without missing a beat.

"That much was obvious, thank you very much." Brown sneered. "Where were you going, and why? Was it one of the other guests?"

Gamo shook his head. "No, nothing like that. Simply a... personal meeting, and I won't say anything more about that."

"Explain yourself, Whisky. In detail." The other snapped back. "Or do you prefer to have this conversation with Skull himself?"

"Oh, no, of course not." Gamo answered, still calm. His composure caused some murmurs among the other men sitting at the table. "I had an appointment with a lady, and allow me to be a gentleman and keep the details about her identity to myself, or at least don't share it while all our colleagues are around." He added when the others had calmed down.

There were a couple of chuckles coming from around the table. Brown glared at them, then at Gamo once more. "In that case, we will talk about that more in detail later, in my office. But even if that turns out to be true and this woman can confirm it, and provided she exists, you still transgressed our rules, and you'll have to be punished accordingly."

"Even if, with my act, I might have done something that might help us? Or, to be precise, doctor Gilmore?"

Everyone turned their heads towards Gamo, almost at the same time. The man didn't seem intimidated in the slightest, and kept the same smug expression on his face.

"What the hell are you talking about, Whisky?" Gilmore asked, unable to hold back any longer.

"I had a quick discussion with Kozumi, as you just heard from doctor Brown. Or possibly you saw it yourself in the recording." Gamo explained. "Turns out that your protege is an admirer of mine, at least as much as Bell is of you."

Gilmore frowned. "First and foremost, Kozumi isn't my 'protege'." He said. _And second, I couldn't care about Bell in the slightest_ , he almost added. Instead, he said: "And what does this have to do with anything?"

"Calm down, Gilmore." Brown said, looking attentively at Gamo. "Let him explain, this sounds interesting."

Gamo nodded, giving Gilmore a smug grin. "From what he told me, Kozumi was deeply influenced by my old research. He said it was very important for him, but I couldn't tell you how since I didn't have the time to ask more. If you want to keep him around as part of our team, like you said yesterday, this could be very useful. Don't you think?"

There was some murmuring in the room, as all men looked at each other - all except Gilmore, who kept silent, feeling a mix of dumbfounded, annoyed and infuriated. "Are you trying to mock me?" He finally blurted out.

"Please, Gilmore." Brown intervened. He then turned towards Gamo and asked: "And what makes you think he'll decide to stay with us?"

"Gilmore described him as interested in the research, and he seemed sincerely enthusiast to see me."

"And how are we supposed to believe you?" Dressler asked. "What if he was a spy, and you were giving him information?"

"If Kozumi was a spy, I highly doubt that Skull and the higher echelons would have ever allowed him to come here." Brown commented.

"Precisely." Gamo added.

"Still, how are we going to explain to him that someone like you, officially missing, is here among us?"

"He seems to think that I defected. And given how I've been keeping a low profile this whole time, he probably thinks I'm just hiding here." Gamo explained. "His personal interest in me and my research is something we could use to our advantage, if we want him to stay here."

Brown looked pensive for a few moments, then said: "We'll have the recording examined, so we can be sure you told the truth. And if you did, it's a real stroke of luck. Don't you think so, Gilmore?"

"Er... yes." He replied, taken by surprise.

"We will carry out that check and see. If things are like you said, there's no denying that your contribution might turn out to be extremely important in this case. But even if that were to be the case, Whisky, you did break an important rule, and you'll have to be punished accordingly regardless."

Gamo nodded. "That's only fair, I'll accept everything." Again, neither his tone nor his expression betrayed any note of fear or sadness, Gilmore noticed.

"Well then." Brown replied. "You will follow me to my office, and we'll talk about the more... personal details of your encounters last night, to see if your story holds up. After that, you will stay in your room until the guests are gone, and will come out only when you'll be called, to have a talk with Kozumi."

"I will." He said.

"I want you to get any kind of information from him about what his interests are, his wishes, what exactly would be his demands for working here, and so forth. However, remember that we're under protocol B."

"I know well." Gamo answered.

"Good." Brown said, nodding. "In that case, our meeting is now over. I apologize once more for dragging all of you out of bed like this." He went on, his voice slightly shaky as he received a few annoyed looks from some of the men sitting around the table.

In a way, Gilmore couldn't help agreeing with their feeling: being woken up so early to assist to something like that was ridiculous. Shaming someone for breaking a vital rule like keeping locked to his room during a protocol B was to be expected, waking up people that early just for that wasn't. But then again, seeing Whisky being the one on the hot seat was a spectacle for which he would have happily skipped sleep.

But the way the man had turned the whole situation around like that and managed to make himself look like he had done something useful was annoying, if not enraging. And while on one hand anything raising the possibilities of having Kozumi stick around was welcome, the fact it depended on Whisky, of all people... that was humiliating on a personal level.

"Alright then, you're all dismissed." Brown then said in a stern voice that caught the attention of everyone around the table, and completely wiped the annoyed look off the faces of a few of them. "Except for you, Whisky."

"Yes, of course." He replied, nodding.

One after the other, every man stood up from the table, some after giving Brown a quick salutation and others completely ignoring the man altogether, and quickly walked out. Gilmore stood up as well, one of the last ones to do so, and before leaving turned towards Brown and said: "Is there anything else I need to do for you now? Aside from bringing you the recordings, of course."

Brown shook his head. "No, not for the moment, first we need to check if he was telling the truth. But if it turns out he's not lying you'll definitely be needed, to look after Kozumi for the rest of today's visit."

"Obviously." Gilmore answered. He hoped Whisky was lying, the idea of having to work with him was seriously annoying.

"In any case, try to rest for another couple of hours or so. I'll need you in the best shape." Brown replied. "See you later."

"Later, doctor Brown." Gilmore replied, giving his superior a smile. He looked at Gamo and averted his sight immediately after; for a moment he had the impression that the expression on the man's face was a smug grin aimed at him. He turned around, headed for the door and walked out, where some of his colleagues were chatting in small groups, mostly talking disrespectfully of Brown and of what he had just done.

Fighting the temptation to join in to try and explain that Brown did indeed have reasons for having behaved like that, he instead walked towards one of the elevators. He felt too tired to attempt a conversation at the moment, and the pain was starting to get noticeable again. He needed to go to the infirmary right away and get a pill or two, then back to sleep.

* * *

When Françoise woke up the lights were still off, so she lay in bed for some time to enjoy the peace. The only noises she could hear were those of 002 and 004 snoring softly.

It wasn't unusual for her to wake up before the lights were on. And despite how much better she had started to sleep since she had started sharing a room with them, she still woke up with barely a few hours of sleep in her. But at the very least, now those few hours were restful, and she woke up feeling good - or as close to good as it was possible.

When she started to feel bored she kicked away the sheets. Helping herself with her sight, walked to the bathroom trying to make as little noise as possible, and carried out her morning routine. Thinking about how they hadn't been warned about any plan for that day, instead of changing into the uniform she decided to keep her pajama on. It was the nicer one she had been given the day before, for the visit with the guest. It felt more comfortable and a bit more fancy than her usual one, and because of it she had grown fond of it in the few hours she had worn it - that, and it had been such a long time since she had worn anything that wasn't the uniform or a plain white hospital gown or pajama.

She then got back to the main room and sat at the table. She turned on her hearing, and realizing that the microphones were still on she felt uncomfortable, but mostly frustrated. Was this supposed to go on for the rest of the day, or just for a few more hours? She repeated that question in her head a couple of times, in the hope that 001 would have answered her, but nothing happened.

001... he had said that he would have been gone for one day, so where was he now? She could only hope nothing wrong had happened to him.

Françoise let out a long sigh and hung her head. The idea of having to keep that act going for yet another day was going to be difficult. Not the whole having to pretend that the microphones weren't there and acting as if she, 002 and 004 were having a good time; what bothered her was how, in that situation, it would have been impossible to discuss with them about what had happened and what was going on. They barely had enough paper left to write on, surely not enough for her to be able to write down her thoughts in an articulate manner.

And even then, she wasn't sure she would have been able to express herself properly, having to write in English. Maybe she could have asked 004 some help, to translate to 002.

Or would he? 004 had seemed very demoralized because of what had happened with the message, and she wished she could have done something to cheer him up. During the night she had heard him mumble something she couldn't understand, while tossing and turning in his bed. As she thought about how to approach the argument with him, when she started hearing the noise of neon crackling; the guards were about to turn the lights on and wake them up.

Some seconds, and the lights were on and the window in the door opened. A guard shouted at them and 002 sat up on his bed, cursing under his breath. The same routine as usual.

"You, already up! Breakfast!" The guard ordered, and Françoise stood up and deftly carried out what by now had become a small ritual.

When she put the last tray on the table, the man behind the door added: "And make sure you eat everything!"

"Yes." Françoise replied before the man slammed the window closed. She turned towards the bunk beds, and saw 004 already up on his feet.

"Good morning." He said while sitting down at the table.

"Good morning to you. Slept well?" She asked, moving his tray in front of him. She then pointed at the corners of the room; he shrugged, the expression on his face not changing for a moment.

"It could have been better." He then replied, starting to help himself to his food.

Françoise had imagined he would have answered something like that. He might have already used those same words a few days before, but she couldn't remember clearly. As much as she enjoyed spending time with them, a few things were starting to bleed into each other.

She looked at the bed again, and saw 002 sitting up while looking at them. He yawned and jumped off his bed, then headed to the table. "Morning." He mumbled, sounding so weird it took her some moments to realize that he was trying to sound upbeat. He raised his head, gave the other two a grin and sat down as well.

Seeing him act like that, Françoise couldn't help wondering what was up with him. But after the small tantrum against 001 he had had the night before, not to mention the other, bigger and shouted one from the day before that, she felt like she could easily guess. She passed him his tray and tried to head towards 004's bed, only to be stopped by 002's voice: "Mind if I go to the bathroom first?"

"No, go ahead." The other man answered.

"Yes. I did everything before you woke up, you can go." Françoise added.

"Alright." Jet replied, heading to the other room. When he was gone, Françoise pulled the two pieces of paper and the pen from under the pillow on 004's bed and brought them back to the table. She sat down and looked for a clear corner of the sheet that was big enough for her to write on, but there was barely room for a couple short sentences.

She read through what they had written down the previous night, during the argument they had about 001, when 002 had ripped the paper with the pen while nervously writing down what he thought. He looked out of himself, and she could understand why.

So she had waited a few minutes to let him calm down, and only then had taken one of the two pieces of the sheet, and had written down her reply - that she disagreed with him, and didn't think that 001 was taking part in some plan against the three of them. 002 had then given her his short answer, a few sarcastic words telling her that sure, everything that was happening right now must have just been a coincidence, of course.

So she had written down her thoughts again, trying to explain herself better and more in detail; his answer had been the same - just worded differently, like hers.

After thinking about trying a third time, she decided to give up for the moment, mostly because she was starting to get tired and was feeling too cloud minded. A good night of sleep would have helped her, and possibly him too, she had decided. And now that the night had passed she wanted to try again. A pity there wasn't enough paper to properly write down what she wanted to say.

She let out a sigh and raised her head to see if 004 was looking at her, then turned away before he could notice her. She put down the paper, picked her glass of milk and slowly sipped it.

A couple of minutes later 002 walked out of the bathroom and sat next to the other two. He picked up the paper that Françoise had left on the table and checked it out, then concentrated on eating. "Whenever you want to go, 004." He said before taking a bite of his bread.

"Okay. I'll go later." Albert replied, going back to his breakfast. Françoise kept on eating slowly and looking down at her dish for a while, until she heard the noise of the pen scribbling. She turned her attention at it, and saw 002 writing something down on the paper, then pushing it towards her. She immediately found the two words he had just added: _Any problem?_

In response she shook her head, trying her best to give him a smile. She had a second thought, picked up the pen and wrote down a couple words as well: _And you?_

 _Annoyed at 001. He betrayed us, it's clear now._ He wrote back.

Françoise read the answer and picked the pen from his hand. She took the paper, but saw that there wasn't enough blank space for her to write down what she wanted to. Without thinking about it, she pulled up her left sleeve and wrote on her arm: _It's not his fault. Things aren't going like they said, there must be some serious problem._

She then shoved her arm in front of his face. 002 turned his head and looked at her, looking surprised and confused. Instinctively, her eyes darted in 004's direction, and saw that he was staring at them, an expression similar to 002's on his face. She lowered her sight, saw her own arm and felt her cheeks and ears getting hot.

Despite her best efforts to try and reply something, she felt too embarrassed to say a word. She was eventually snapped out of it when she heard 002 let out a small chuckle. She looked up and saw him take up the pen; he then gently took a hold of her arm, and wrote on it: _Still don't trust him sorry_.

It took some time for her to process all that, and it only fully sinked in when she heard 004 trying to stifle a laugh. She turned her head towards the man, and saw him trying to keep a straight face.

"Try to eat something." 002 then said.

"I'm not very hungry, sorry." She replied.

"Make an effort." He answered, putting down the pen and giving her one of his oranges. "Even if we should all always do the exact opposite of what those assholes say, this time they're right."

"Those what?" She asked, confused.

At those words, 002 widened his eyes. He turned towards 004, who shoot him a glare, then back to Françoise. "The guards, I meant."

"Ah..." She mumbled, realizing she shouldn't have investigated further. "Alright, but first I need to go to the bathroom one moment." She then said, standing up.

"Oh, okay." He replied. "But don't use it as an excuse."

"I promise, just two minutes and I'll be back." Françoise said before reaching the bathroom. Before walking inside she turned around, and caught a glimpse of 004 and 002 exchanging a confused look. She let out a small laugh, then headed in and washed her arm.

* * *

Despite the cold shower he had just taken, Kozumi couldn't shake off the feeling of numbness and confusion that had been clinging onto him since the previous night. He slowly put his clothes back on, went back to the bathroom and washed his face again, blaming first the sleeping pills he had taken from the night before, then the jet lag. He then hoped that the reason for it was just the fact he was on a empty stomach, and tried to recall if something similar had already happened to him in the past.

Realizing he couldn't think of anything, he blamed that on what he had seen, not to mention the small shock he had felt after being asked to stay there. And obviously he was also horribly confused by what had happened the night before. A part of him wondered if that hadn't just been some sort of hallucination, a way too vivid dream brought upon by the sleeping pills, or something like that.

He decided to move on, before all that wondering and thinking in circles gave him a headache. Doing something to keep his mind busy would have been much more helpful. He checked his watch, attached the identification badge to the lapel of his jacket and gave himself a last look in the mirror.

Feeling ready and clear headed enough, he walked out of his room, and once outside he was greeted by Gilmore's voice: "Good morning, professor Kozumi."

He had expected and dreaded that, and had hoped it wouldn't have happened that soon. Resigned, he turned around to face the man, and saw two figures standing a few steps away from him. The sight of the second man confused him once again.

"I hope you had a nice sleep, professor. I also hope you remember this gentleman." Gilmore then said in an almost sly tone.

"Erm... good morning, professor Kozumi." The other man added, stepping forward and extending his hand.

"Good morning... doctor Torski." Kozumi replied, still trying to make all pieces fall into place, as he took the other's hand and shook it.

"I know the two of you met last night. I hope it didn't shock you too much." Gilmore commented.

Kozumi hesitated, then asked: "What's this man doing here?"

"It's quite a long story. Now, if you will follow us to the elevator..." Gilmore said, pointing to the other side of the corridor with a nod of his head.

Kozumi looked at Gamo, who returned the glance and smiled at him. "Alright..." He replied, walking behind Gilmore and next to the other man.

"I hope my sudden appearance didn't shock you too much." Gamo then commented.

"Well, a bit..." Kozumi answered. "'Confused' would be more accurate."

"Was it more shocking and confusing than what you studied last afternoon?" Gilmore chimed in as the three reached the elevators.

"That's... difficult to say, heh..."

"You will have to get used to it then, life in here is full of surprises." Gilmore replied. A couple of seconds later the doors opened, and the three walked inside.

"So, uhm... where are we going now?" Kozumi asked after the doors had closed.

"We'll have breakfast with your two colleagues, before they leave." Gilmore said. "Only the two of us. Doctor Whisky here has to keep a low profile. At least, he should." He then added, giving Gamo a glare as he spoke the last sentence.

"Like doctor Gilmore, I also think that you would make a great addition to our team." Gamo said, not even reacting to the words the other had just said. "I had the occasion of seeing you yesterday, during the visit to our German patient, and I'm more than sure of that. With your interest and passion, and obviously your skill, I'm sure your presence will help us and our research greatly."

"Huh..." Kozumi mumbled, looking intently at the other. Now he finally understood who that weird man with the mask was, and why he had seemed so familiar. "I'm happy to hear that, coming from you..."

"Doctor Whisky is one of our most valued collaborators in here. Like you saw yesterday, a lot of our work currently focuses on creating nervous fibers for our replacement organs, and on how to make them work without rejection. Having someone like you at his side could be a real help for his work." Gilmore said.

"Really?" Kozumi asked, his voice betraying some excitement.

"Of course." Gilmore replied as the elevator reached its destination and the doors opened. "You'll be able to talk about this more in detail later, when you'll be on your own. For the moment, let's just think about breakfast." He said with a half smile before walking out in the hallway. After an instant of hesitation, Kozumi followed suit.

"See you later, then." Gamo then said, without leaving the elevator.

"Later." Kozumi answered, slightly waving his hand, as the doors closed in front of his face. He turned around, towards Gilmore, and felt all the excitement that had built up in him vanish at once.

"Let's go, shall we? I really need some coffee." Gilmore replied, his voice flat. From his tone and his request, for a moment that man sounded almost humanlike, Kozumi thought.

"Yes." He answered as he started to head towards the canteen, walking next to the other.

"As you can imagine, you should treat professor Whisky's presence here the same way I asked you to treat the research you did yesterday." Gilmore then added, his voice back to the deadpan tone he was more familiar with.

"I see..." Kozumi answered. "But why?"

"He had to defect from the Soviet Union, his presence here is something we'd like to not to spread around." Gilmore explained.

"I understand." The other replied. So, that was the reason all along. It also explained why Torski would keep on denying it.

He thought of this, and the two had arrived right in front of the door of the canteen. Kozumi straightened his face, and they walked inside. They got their food and reached the table where the other two guests and the rest of the doctors were sitting, already enjoying their meals.

"Good morning, and sorry for the delay." Kozumi said, sitting down.

"Good morning. No need to apologize about this, don't worry." Yacoub replied. The man and Bell were both dressed with the same suits they had been wearing on the helicopter during the travel there, Kozumi noticed.

"Yes, we had to get up earlier and get our stuff ready anyway." Bell added. The two seemed almost out of place among the rest of the doctors, who were wearing much more casual clothes and a lab coat over it. For a moment Kozumi expected to see the luggage of the two men sitting on the floor, next to the table.

"Talking about that, I think heard some commotion this morning, or was it just me?" Yacoub asked.

"A malfunction with our alarm system. Just a small hassle, nothing serious." Gilmore replied promptly while some of the doctors exchanged a look with each other. It was quick, but so clear that Kozumi couldn't help notice it.

"Oh, I see..." Yacoub answered.

"In case you were wondering why some of us have very noticeable bags under their eyes, now you know." Crofts chimed in. "Anyway, we were just doing some small talk. Professor Bell was just talking about what he's planning to do next summer."

"Oh, really?" Gilmore asked, looking down at his food and just before taking a bite of his bread.

At that, Kozumi exchanged a look with Crofts, then with the other men sitting around the table, and decided to take part in the conversation as well, just to focus on something else.

* * *

Gilmore threw a glance at the men in front of himself and, after pulling his sleeve up with an emphatic, almost theatrical movement, checked his wristwatch once more. Not that the small scene would have done much to speed things up, but at the same time he had to let the trio know how he and his colleagues were feeling.

It had been a good ten minutes since Yacoub, Bell and Kozumi had started saying goodbye to each other. They were speaking so much and with such a fervor, one would have thought they had already known each other for years. And there they were, chatting like nothing was and wasting too much time.

Letting out a sigh, Gilmore gave a look around the hall and then at Gaia and Dressler, standing next to him and clearly sharing his irritation. He couldn't openly pressure the men to hurry up, knowing that if he tried he would have come off as rude and ruined any chance at making a good impression he had, but by now he was seriously tempted to step forward and drag Kozumi away.

Thankfully, as he thought of this, he finally heard the words he had been expecting for a while now, out of Bell's mouth: "Well, I think we should really start going."

"Indeed, sorry for taking so much of your time. Still, it's been a real pleasure, and I hope to be able to see the both of you once again." Yacoub added before taking a business card out of his pocket and giving it to Kozumi. "Feel free to write whenever you want."

"Oh, yes." Bell said while opening his suitcase. He produced a small bag from one of them, took one of his own cards and gave it to Kozumi. "It might take me a while to answer you, especially if you write to my Geneva address, but you will definitely hear back from me."

"Oh, t-thank you." Kozumi replied as he accepted the cards. He searched himself, and loudly proclaimed to the other two that he had forgotten his cards back in his room.

Gilmore rolled his eyes, and was seriously tempted about to step forward and tell them to just end this already, when he saw Bell pass Kozumi a pen and another couple of his own cards. Kozumi scribbled down something, and gave them back to the other two - which hopefully meant this was finally over for good.

"For the moment, those will have to do. I apologize for not being as prepared as you, heh. I'll send you my card with my first letter." Kozumi said, and the other two let out a laugh. After that, the men shook each other's hands, and finally the two guests started walking towards corridor where a group of guards were waiting for them. Gilmore bit his lip, feeling very close to openly voice his relief.

When the other two were gone, Kozumi turned back towards Gilmore and his colleagues. "Sorry for the delay." He said.

"It's nothing." Gilmore replied.

"We're still on schedule, don't worry." Gaia said. "If you need to do anything before we start the rest of our tour, feel free to." Hearing those words Gilmore turned his head and shot him a glare, then slowly turned back toward Kozumi.

"Oh no, nothing at all. I'm fine, let's go." Kozumi replied.

"Alright, follow me. Crofts, Gaia, go finish the preparatives." Gilmore answered, turning his back to the others as soon as he had finished speaking that sentence, and walking away.

Only when they were inside an elevator travelling to the underground floor, Gilmore started speaking again: "Before we start the rest of our visit, I think you'd love to have a talk with doctor Whisky."

Kozumi nodded. He hesitated for a few seconds, then asked: "Just a curiosity... why do you keep on calling doctor Torski by that name?"

It took a bit for Gilmore to respond, feeling almost dumbfounded by his own stupidity: had he really just used that name again, during a serious conversation with a guest? "Oh, that's... just a nickname." He finally managed to articulate. "He might have told you about how the person that forged his documents when he left the Soviet Union wrote that down as his name."

"Yes, something like that." Kozumi replied.

"So, that's why, heh. It's stupid, we all realize it. But it did stick, so we kept on using it." The other explained, feigning calm - but despite his best efforts, he was sure he wasn't fooling the other man. "This is a pretty informal place, in a way."

"...yes." Kozumi answered after some silence.

Gilmore looked away, hoping he wasn't blushing from the embarrassment or anything like that. He looked at the button panel to his side, and from the lit up buttons saw that they were thankfully close to their floor. He took some more relief in thinking that, after this, he wouldn't have had to deal with Kozumi for a while. And when he would have been back to talk to him, hopefully the man would have been too taken by what he had witnessed to remember this - that was the good thing about men that absorbed in their work, after all.

They reached their destinations, and the doors opened. Gilmore took a few steps out and froze still, his eyes open wide.

 _There you are, Gilmore..._ The words resounded in his mind, in 001's voice. For some instants everything around him almost stopped still.

"Doctor Gilmore? Doctor Gilmore?" Kozumi's voice dragged him back to reality. When he snapped out of it, the other man was standing in front of him, looking worried and waving a hand in front of his face.

Gilmore took in a deep breath, and gave the other a thin, strained smile. "It's nothing, nothing. Just... a moment of faintness, I thought I had seen something strange for a moment, heh..." He replied.

"Oh, I see..." Kozumi said. "But are you alright now?"

Gilmore nodded. "Yes, it's nothing serious, heh... these days have been tiring, and it's starting to take a toll on me."

"Alright. Need a help to walk? Tell me where we should go, I'll carry you along." The other said, putting his arm around the other's shoulder.

"No, no. I'm alright, I'm alright." Gilmore replied, backing away a couple of steps from the other. "Let's go, everything is alright now." Or at least he hoped. That had just been a moment of weakness and tiredness, and nothing more, he repeated himself. Had it really been 001, it would have ended much worse for him. He was still locked in his room, there was nothing he had to worry about.

He composed himself, and led Kozumi to the laboratory.

* * *

The noise suddenly stopped, and all Ivan could think was that it was earlier than usual. He couldn't exactly evaluate how much time had passed - definitely not right in that moment, still confused as he was - but he was sure that it was still too soon, his headache wasn't as strong as it usually would be.

He was waiting for the dizziness to fade away when he heard the noise of the door opening, followed by two pairs of footsteps. That got his attention, since usually it would only be one person to come in. For a moment he wondered if that was just his confusion, or maybe there was something wrong going on. He turned his head to his side and saw a nurse he had never met before - and next to her, that man.

Instinctively, he tried to create a barrier between himself and the two people, but nothing happened. He was still too disoriented to be able to do anything. He threw a glance at the nurse, and saw her looking out of the room into the corridor with circumspection, then close the door. There was something very strange in this, so he decided to close his eyes and pretended to be resting.

When the door was finally closed, the woman walked towards Ivan's crib. She gently picked him up and caressed his back.

"He's alright, just half asleep. You can come closer." The woman said.

"When was the last time he ate?" Gamo asked.

"Two visits ago, he drank only half his bottle." She replied while putting him back into the crib and undoing the buttons of his onesies.

"Anything wrong happened?"

"No, he's alright." The nurse said after giving Ivan a quick check. She stepped aside: "I'll go check the door, you hurry up."

"Thank you." He answered while fishing a stethoscope from his pocket. He put it on and started to check Ivan's heart and breathing.

Even in his still dazed state, Ivan could tell there was something wrong: whenever that man was supposed to get close to him, someone would anesthetize him or put him to sleep, or even turn the noise on again, just to avoid that he could use his powers to wreak havoc in the room or the whole facility. But now here he was, and with only one other person to his side. He waited some more for his mind to uncloud, and as soon as he felt lucid enough he immediately dove into the man's mind. As much as he hated having any form of contact with him, he needed answers.

There was a deep sense of unease was all over that man, Ivan found out. As he probed deeper, he was able to find out that it was because of two very distinct reasons: on one hand he was afraid that somebody could find out what he was doing, and on the other fear for the child. That man was concerned about his wellbeing, and at the same time was scared that as soon as the confusion caused by the noise would have worn off, the child would have started lashing out at him.

Ivan was almost tempted to express his amusement by letting out a chuckle: that man was worried about his wellbeing now? He was really concerned about how he was being treated in here, after he had brought him to this place? What a laugh, and what a fun sense of priority.

Then again, that man had been working in this place for years, his mind had likely been warped for good a long time ago.

It took Ivan a huge effort not to give into that temptation to prove him right and throw him against the wall. Instead he concentrated again, and read deeper in his head: there was something about Gilmore suddenly deciding that he would have been kept locked in that room for longer than they had agreed upon, all because of one of the guests. There was anger at how flippant and irritating he had acted about that, but also some resignation - that was just how Gilmore acted all the time he had any decisional power, after all.

He then searched something about the woman and why she was there, and found that the man had gone to her room in the middle of the previous night, asking her to help him with his plan. Initially she had refused, but as soon as the man had said he would have done his best to give 'the young woman' some more help, she had immediately accepted.

Then he focused on the woman, and read into her mind as well: her memories of what had happened a few hours prior, in her room, were the exact same as those of the man, so nothing strange there. Then there were a few more scenes about her sneaking into the infirmary to take some tools, for the small visit he was receiving in that moment - the stethoscope, a blood pressure monitor for children, and a syringe and some vials. She had passed the rest of the morning checking the time, for the moment when most of the doctors in the facility would have been busy greeting the guests goodbye, and had called the man. The last things were from about a few minutes ago, when she had walked into the room where the controls for the noise machine were, and turned it off.

If only he could have done so without rousing suspicions, Ivan would have smiled widely at that: now he knew where the machine that produced that noise was, it was great. With that knowledge he might have been able to do something about the whole situation - or, at least, he could have tried to.

"Alright, everything's done, Mrs. Mayniel." Gamo said out loud as he started to dress up Ivan again.

"Okay." She replied. The woman then walked next to the crib and started dressing the child again, while the man walked to the door and stood alert.

He had some more time, Ivan realized, and he decided to focus on the woman once more, out of curiosity. He wasn't too surprised to find out that 'the young woman' was 003, if only because there weren't many more young women in the facility one could have been worried about - at least, he hoped there weren't any. Another dive in her mind, and he found out where exactly his friend would have been visited on that day, and that the guest was some Japanese man called Kozumi.

Just to be safe, he checked Gamo as well, and thankfully it all matched. It was amazing, how much useful information he could find out because of how people completely lowered their defenses when they were around him.

In the time it took Ivan to find that out, the nurse had finished putting him back into his clothes. While she quickly gathered all his medical instruments and pocketed them, the man approached the crib, gave Ivan a last quick check and tucked him back in.

When she was done she headed back towards the door. "Come on, let's go." She then said.

"A moment." Gamo replied, looking at the child. "Спи спокойно, Ваня." He mumbled under his breath, ruffling the child's hair.

Ivan had to gather all his willpower not to lash out at him, and waited for the man to finally turn around and reach the nurse. The woman to slightly cracked the door open and checked out what was going on outside, and only then the two walked out of the room.

The door closed, and Ivan knew that in less than a minute the noise would have started again. He still had a few seconds to do something; he might have tried to contact 002, 003 or 004, but given the little time he would have been able to tell them literally only a few words before disappearing, and doing that would have made them even more worried than they probably already were.

Make them worried... he thought again about those words. An idea came to him all of a sudden, as he quickly searched for Gilmore's mind through the facility. According to Gamo, in this moment he should have been somewhere around the new laboratories area. Luckily it didn't take too long to find him, and when he did he projected into his mind a few words: _'There you are, Gilmore...'_

When he was done, he immediately stopped the communication and relaxed, making himself comfortable under the covers and smiling to himself. The noise was about to start again, now he needed to calm down, endure the next hour or so and try to recover some energy for later, during the next break.

* * *

The door opened, and as he walked inside Kozumi took a moment to study the room: it was yet another laboratory like the one from the day before, and even if it was a different room altogether it contained the same kind of furniture and equipment, in more or less the same places. He even saw the same two men he had seen the day before, when he had been shown the samples for the first time.

"Where's Torski?" He heard Gilmore ask from behind his back.

"Gone to the bathroom." One of the other two said. "He said he'll be right back."

Gilmore sneered, only to soften his expression when he noticed that Kozumi was looking at him. "Alright then. I'll leave you here for the moment, I have a couple of errands to carry out. As soon as I'll be done with them I'll be back."

"Alright." The same man said.

"Yes. Later." Kozumi added.

Without saying a word, Gilmore turned around and walked out. The man seemed to be back to his usual manners, Kozumi thought while giving a shrug. At least it had been interesting to see him act a bit more like an actual human being for a few moments.

Kozumi then walked towards the other two men, shook their hands and introduced himself once more. They replied giving him calm, warm smiles that put him back at ease. As they lost themselves doing small talk, the door opened once again.

"Oh, doctor Torski." Kozumi said, seeing the man step in.

"Sorry for the delay." Gamo replied, closing the door.

"Took you a while." One of the two assistants said.

"I wanted to be sure I was presentable, after this morning's mess." He answered. The man then walked towards Kozumi, and shook his hand: "I hope I didn't make you waste too much time."

Kozumi shook his head. "At all."

"Well then. In any case, let's start immediately. Me and my colleagues are here to answer any question you might have, so please don't hold back." Gamo added, sitting down at a table standing a few steps away from them. Kozumi nodded, taking a chair next to the other man.

He gave a look around the table, and unlike the day before he didn't see microscopes or other instruments, but jugs of water and empty glasses. Like yesterday there were a few files and Petri dishes piled up on another nearby table, but fewer.

"Alright then... first of all, allow me to start by once again telling you how important your work has been for me." Kozumi said, looking at Gamo. "Being able to sit down and talk with you is a dream come true."

Gamo smiled thinly. "I'm glad to hear that, but also a bit surprised. I would have never imagined anyone would think of me and my research as something even remotely 'influential'."

"You're giving yourself too little credit." Kozumi answered. "A lot of your research was so ahead of its time, it's impossible to believe--"

"Ahead of its time, huh?" Gamo interrupted him. "Reminds me of a quip a critic once wrote about me. According to him, my research was something that trascended this world, in the sense that it could have only made sense in some sort of alternate universe from ours." He explained, chortling.

"But eventually your discoveries were vindicated. I mean, many studies about chemical imbalances and their effects on the brain quote your work, and they've been incredibly well received by our peers. I imagine you've been reading magazines during this time--"

"Of course." Gamo intervened. "But all I did were small, basic studies."

"Which have helped us greatly!" Kozumi replied. "And now you're working for B.G. Research. That's an incredible achievement."

"I know. Still, it's always surprising to me, that's all." The other said. "And since you're so interested, go on and ask whatever you want."

Kozumi nodded. "Before we start talking about your studies, however, there are a couple of other things I'd like to ask you about. If you don't mind, of course." He said after some hesitation.

"Does this have to do with the reason why I left the Soviet Union?"

"Well, yes--"

"Like I said last night, it was because of personal reasons. Things I don't feel like talking about, if you don't mind." Gamo said, interrupting the other. His tone had gotten stern, thought not angry or annoyed.

"I understand. I will not ask you any more questions, then." Kozumi decided to say, nodding. Despite the insistence from the man, things made even less sense: B.G. did have contacts with the Moscow University, and he knew of other Russian scientists who had been formed in the Soviet Union that were now working for the group and had then returned there, including Gilmore himself. If Torski had defected, how was he able to work with people who still had contacts with their home country?

On the other hand, if he had to leave his country like that he must have had help, and despite everything even someone like Gilmore would have been a decent enough person to lend a hand to someone in need.

"Alright then." Gamo then started. "Let's move on to the research, then. I've heard that yesterday you took extensive notes on some samples from two of our guests."

"Huh... yes, yes." Kozumi replied. "I don't have them with me, however--" He interrupted himself when one of the assistants put on the table in front of himself the notebook he had used the day before.

"Sorry, I had forgotten to give you this." The assistant said before backing away a couple steps.

"Oh, thanks." Kozumi said, smiling back. "A-Anyway, like I was saying, I was curious to know more about the way those prothetics work. You did operate on the two patients, right?"

"Yes. Mostly on the German man."

"I see." Kozumi replied, rifling through the notebook until he reached the page he wanted. "Now, could you please give me an explanation about the whole procedure of grafting them to their brains?"

"Of course, that's the reason why I'm here." Gamo replied while pouring some water in two glasses and passing one of them to Kozumi. In the meanwhile the assistants brought some files and rolled up charts on the table and spread them.

* * *

A couple knocks at the door and it opened, earlier than he would have imagined, a sign that he was expected. "Sorry for making you wait, doctor Brown." Gilmore said, walking in.

"Good morning again, Gilmore." The other replied, gesturing in the direction of the armchairs.

"Bell and Yacoub have left, finally." Gilmore explained as he walked in. "I have left Kozumi with Dressler, Gaia and Whi-- Torski."

"Good." Brown said, nodding. He closed the door and, taking small steps, walked towards Gilmore. "Talking about which, I've instructed him in regards to what he should talk about with our guest, and how to handle the various topics that might crop up."

"Yes, he told me so." The other said as he moved forward and put a couple of reels of magnetic tape on the small table between the armchairs.

"That was one hell of a stroke of luck, don't you think?" Brown said, sitting down himself. "Finding out that one of our guests has a professional interest in one of our collaborators, that should help us bring him in our ranks."

"You think so?" Gilmore asked, leaning against the armchair's back.

Brown nodded. "Admittedly, with someone like Whisky it's going to be a bit more difficult, given his personality. He's not exactly a charmer. But from what he told me, he's isn't against the idea of mentoring someone else, even someone coming from a completely different background than his own."

"I suppose that the fact that finding and mentoring more members in our group can get some substantial benefits helped him in that direction, too." Gilmore replied, sarcastic.

Brown grinned. "So, was that your own aim all along, when you got your sight on Kozumi?"

Gilmore let out a chuckle. "If I said no I'd be lying. The possibility of having more freedom of research for my side projects in the future is definitely not something I'd spit on. But that's not the only reason." He paused, then went on. "The second reason is a slightly more petty one."

Gilmore learned forward and his voice dropped to a whisper, then went on: "For as much respect I have for Skull and his superiors, for allowing us to do our work like this, I wasn't too happy with the way they decided to spring upon us this visit all of a sudden. So I decided to show that we're serious about this, by bringing one of the guests in our ranks right away."

Brown waited for Gilmore to stop talking and sat back upright before replying: "So, you think this whole visit was only to mock us?"

"Definitely." The other replied. "Personally, I think that the visit had been planned for the near future, but they did move it up just to bother us, or give us a warning since our progress is slowing down." And like Brown, he was starting to think that someone had sent information outside about it, but didn't want to say it out loud - he would have had to mention he thought that the mole was 001, and that would have made him look completely out of his mind.

Brown finished listening to him, looking pensive, then nodded. "I see. In that case, very well done. And luck helped us as well, with Kozumi's presence." He made a pause. "But if anything goes according to plan, we will have to find someone else to keep close to Whisky during the mentoring process. Would you prefer to do it yourself?"

Gilmore raised an eyebrow. "Why would I do something like that? I have more than enough work as it is in here, without having to leave and follow him."

"Are you sure? If I can be brutally honest, taking a short break would do you good."

"I'm positive. I haven't felt better in a long while." Gilmore replied with a snort. "Besides, it's Torski who that man is interested in. But if you really need someone else to keep an eye on Kozumi, there are dozens of other people in here that would be more than happy to lend a hand for a few more benefits."

"I understand. However, considering how Kozumi is your personal pick, I thought you would have wanted to look after his formation."

"He's a biochemist, I'm a surgeon. There isn't much I can teach him."

"That's not what I meant. You and Torski seem like the two most appropriate people to work on tearing down any remaining doubt he might still have about this."

Gilmore chuckled. "Kozumi decided to come here because he likes the idea of being able to study and experiment in complete freedom, he straight out admitted so during his interview. There isn't anything we need to work on with him, and I think we should just forego the whole protocol, and explain him straight out--"

"Don't you even think about that." Brown interrupted him, harshly.

"But--" Gilmore tried to reply, interrupting himself when he saw Brown glaring at him, a hard expression on his face. The more time passed in complete silence, the more Gilmore felt uncomfortable.

"Leave that to our team, and don't you try to take initiatives in that regard." Brown finally said, his expression not changing in the slightest. Despite how stern he still looked, the fact he had at least spoke made Gilmore feel hugely relieved. "You should stick to protocol, if you don't want to deal with the consequences and have to deal with Skull in person. And besides that, you're simply not the most appropriate person to break news like those to someone."

When Brown was done explaining, Gilmore let out a small chuckle. "Thanks for being so honest."

There was more silence on Brown's part. "I understand that for you selecting and recommending Kozumi feels like an act of defiance, but don't get too cocky. Keep on following the indications I gave you and Torski this morning." He said in such a severe tone, it made Gilmore feel queasy once again.

"Yes, of course."

Brown leaned against the armchair again, a thin grin flashing on his face for just an instant, so quickly that Gilmore wondered if he had just imagined it. Then the older man reached out, and took the reels sitting on the table. "Anyway, these are the recordings I had asked you about, aren't they?"

It took Gilmore a couple seconds to react. "Er, y-yes, of course." He nodded. "These are from two days ago and yesterday. About three hours of conversations, I took the liberty of cutting off the moments of complete silence."

"There was no need. Even counting how much time passes between a conversation and the other can be revealing of many things..." Brown said, looking and sounding fascinated as he turned the reel in his hands. It had been a while since the last time Gilmore had seen him so concentrated on something.

"Oh..." He finally mumbled. "Well, I didn't want to waste your time, heh."

"Not something you should have worried about. There are still a few hours to kill, before Kozumi leaves." Brown commented.

"Heh heh, right... well, in any case, there will also be a complete description of their full discussions in the final report." Gilmore replied, immediately regretting having said so.

"Don't exaggerate." Brown said, finally looking at Gilmore. "Just stick to reporting about what you feel is more important, and what your experiment is about."

"Of course, of course." Gilmore answered, relieved. The idea of having almost cornered himself into spending hours making up long descriptions of conversations and silences between those three, like he was some crummy script writer, made him feel like he had just dodged a bullet.

"Alright then. I won't be holding you here any longer." Brown stood up from his armchair, the reel in his hands. "Thank you again for taking some time to bring me this, and see you later."

"Heh, sure. And please don't worry, if it wasn't for all the work, I'd happily stay here for hours." He answered, standing up as well. He composed himself and went on: "Enjoy your recording, and see you later. As soon as Kozumi leaves, I'll personally let you know." He turned him his back and walked out of the room.

Gilmore closed the door behind himself, then walked to the elevators. He had to and check that the preparations in the medical bays were going on smoothly, then go and pick up Kozumi and bring him there. He felt yet another small pang of pain, but this time thankfully slightly less than before.

* * *

The elevator finally reached the floor and opened its doors. Kozumi walked in, following doctor Torski in a manner that, he realized only as the doors closed, was too rigid and stilted, almost as if he was making a mocking impression of someone walking at a military parade. He hoped that neither the other man or any of the people walking by had noticed that, and casually started flicking through the notebook he was holding in his hands, trying to look casual and to vent out the nervousness.

He had just gone through an hour long discussion with doctor Torski, and yet he still couldn't fully wrap his head around the whole situation. The morning had started off feeling like an out-of-body experience, and this wasn't helping either. Kozumi opened the notebook and skimmed through the notes he had taken in the last hour, just to have a tangible evidence he wasn't just hallucinating, or having a way too vivid dream.

"There's no need for you to memorize those right away, you know." Gamo commented.

"Huh?" Kozumi mumbled, taken by surprise. "Er... oh, my notes..." He added, pretending to act nonchalant, while closing the notebook.

"The introductory explanation I gave you was rushed, but I hope it wasn't too confusing."

Kozumi shook his head. "Oh, no, at all."

Gamo nodded, smiling thinly. "I'm glad to hear that. The study of the human brain isn't an easy subject, and I'm afraid I might have gotten too technical for you..."

"No, please don't worry. It was a very clear introduction, really." He replied, trying to calm down and act and look more relaxed than he actually felt.

After giving him another smile, this time more natural, Gamo answered: "It was a very interesting meeting for me as well. Reading through the notes you wrote while analyzing about the material we provided you with was fascinating, to say the least."

"It's only because the material you gave me was unbelievable." Kozumi said. "I wish I could study your research more in detail.

"Well, if you decide to stay with us I'll be more than happy to give you as many lessons as you need."

Kozumi nodded in silence, feeling once again completely nervous. _I'll be more than happy to give you as many lesson as you need_ , he repeated in his head. That meant they had already decided, and were serious about keeping him there.

As he thought about this, the elevator reached its destination. The cold whiff of air coming from the corridor as the doors opened hit Kozumi in the fact, bringing him back to reality.

Gamo walked out and Kozumi followed by. They walked into a nearby room, and the sight of Gilmore standing there, waiting for them, was more than enough to fully wipe away his good mood.

"There you are. I hope you managed to have an interesting discussion." Gilmore then said, an obviously fake smile on his face.

"Yes. It was very productive." Gamo said, his tone betraying some annoyance. Kozumi tried his best not to look at Gilmore, afraid that his expression might have given away how he felt.

"Really." Kozumi forced himself to say. "It was a real pleasure, talking with him."

Gilmore nodded. "Well, I imagine. Anyway, doctor Torski, you're needed at the medical bay in the Eastern wing, urgently."

"Oh, I see." Gamo replied, turning towards Kozumi. "Well, later then."

"Later." Kozumi answered as he looked at the man walk out of the room. Only when the door closed, he turned around to look at Gilmore.

"Looks like the two of you really get along." Gilmore then said, a thin smile on his face, taking a couple steps closer to Kozumi.

"Huh, yes..." He replied, hastily. "He's an interesting man..."

"Was it a discussion about his personal life?"

"Oh... n-no." Kozumi mumbled. "He... doesn't seem too keen on that."

"Understandably so." Gilmore commented, giving a shrug.

At those words, Kozumi hesitated: there was something he really wanted to know, but a part of him knew it would have been rude to ask - and, most important, asking it to someone like Gilmore. Despite his best efforts, however, he wasn't able to hold himself back; before he could realize, he spoke out: "Can I ask you something, about that?"

The way Gilmore turned his head in his direction, his eyes wide in what seemed interest, almost scared Kozumi. "Sure, go on."

Kozumi hesitated, but realized that by that point he couldn't step back, and just pushed on: "So, you told me that doctor Torski did defect from the Soviet Union, but he said he didn't."

Gilmore looked at him in complete silence. He then let out a small laugh. "Well, of course he wouldn't talk about it openly. Do I need to explain you why?"

"I understand that, of course, but... he said it was because of family issues, nothing political... but if he had to defect, it must have been political, so this is confusing to me, and..."

"And you'd like to know what the reason was, huh?"

Those words took Kozumi by surprise at first. He repeated them over and over in his mind, in an attempt to hold himself back and avoid breaking whatever bond of trust he had implicitly build with Torski. Despite his best attempts, his curiosity had the best of him, and he nodded in reply.

Gilmore smiled. "Well, if you're really so interested, then I'll explain you. Just be sure to keep this to yourself." Gilmore said, the grin still on his face. He relaxed his expression, straightened his back and, in an almost solemn voice, went on: "He wasn't lying to you, he was forced to leave the Soviet Union because of family problems. Since you're such an admirer of the man, you probably know about what happened with his son."

"Er... not exactly an admirer..." Kozumi replied. "B-But yes, I know about his son."

Gilmore nodded. "Then again, I would have been surprised if you hadn't heard anything, such a serious and rare disease would have made the news regardless of who the child hit by it was the son of. And that was the reason why he had to leave: the state of medical science back in my country at the time, sadly, wasn't so advanced to deal with something like that. So he decided to leave, in the hope that going to work in other countries on the other side of the curtain would have been better."

"Oh..." Kozumi mumbled.

"Once he left the country he got in contact with some colleagues, and through them he got in touch with B.G. They offered him to work with us and he accepted, if only to find someplace safe. That's how he ended here, and why he's trying to keep a low profile."

"I see..." He commented. "And what happened to his son? When did he pass away?"

Gilmore looked a bit hesitant, almost lost. But then, with a confidence that seemed out of nowhere, added: "He didn't. He's still alive."

Kozumi widened his eyes. "What?"

"You see, while the advancements in the medical field might not have reached a point to allow to treat the condition of that poor kid, neither in the Soviet Union or in the United States, here at B.G. we were able to do something about it." He explained.

Kozumi stood in silence, not knowing what to reply. Gilmore nodded, and went on. "He's not cured, mind you, it's not that easy. But we did manage to at least limit the worst aspects of it." He walked closer to the other and, in a low voice, added: "The kid is still alive as we speak, I can tell you that."

"You're joking. A genetic condition like that--"

"I'm serious." Gilmore interrupted him. "Remember what you saw just yesterday. In comparison, dealing with that child's problem was a walk in the park."

Kozumi looked at the other, his mouth ajar. He was too confused and shocked to be able to find the right words to express himself. Was this man being serious, or was he trying to mock him? It took him another while to finally come up with something to reply. "Okay then... can I see him?"

Gilmore let out a chuckle. "He's not in here, if that's what you're thinking. And even if he was, you'd have to ask doctor Torski himself, and I don't think he'd say yes."

"And why?" Kozumi asked back, raising an eyebrow.

"Would _you_ show your ailing child to a complete stranger?" Gilmore replied. "Besides, as you might have noticed, he doesn't even want to talk about him. You think he'd let you meet him?"

Kozumi turned his sight away for a moment. Then, a doubt formed in his mind: "Then why did _you_ tell me about it?"

"Because you asked, simple." He replied, and the relish in his voice was so clear, it was one of the most irritating things Kozumi had ever witnessed, and he couldn't help but avert his sight. "You openly said that, and I quote, he's not too keen on talking about his personal life. But you wanted to know, and I told you."

What the man had just told him made sense, Kozumi had to admit to his own dismay. And yes, after having seen the woman and the man, he could believe they had also managed to do something for that child. But there were just so many things that felt off, and he couldn't quite put his finger on what. Then again, it wasn't easy to concentrate and think properly with Gilmore around.

And just as he was trying to think of a reply, almost on cue, Gilmore started speaking again and interrupted his train of thought. "So, I trust you won't let anything of what I just explained you slip from your mouth."

"I won't." Kozumi replied, still looking away. He forced himself to turn his head and face the other man and, after opening his notebook with an emphatic gesture, said: "Now, if we could get back to the main reason why I'm here..."

"Obviously, obviously." Gilmore answered, his voice much softer all of a sudden. "So, any other question? Anything else you would like to see?"

"Well, if it's possible..." Kozumi started. "And if it's not a hassle for them... could I see the two patients I met yesterday?"

"No, of course not." He replied, deadpan. "It will just take some minutes to call the doctors looking after them so you can carry out your visit."

"I don't want to visit them. Not in that sense, I mean." The other answered. "I'd just like to see them and exchange a few words, that's all."

At that reply, Gilmore gave him a cold stare. Kozumi's feeling only worsened when a few seconds later the other's expression turned back into that grin. "I see, no problem. But the people looking after them will still have to be around them for safety reasons."

"Yes, I understand." Kozumi replied hastily, giving him a quick nod and instinctively taking a step back.

"Good." Gilmore said in the same oily tone. "In that case, please wait here for a couple minutes, I will go and call everyone. I'll be back soon."

"T-Take your time." Kozumi answered, looking at Gilmore as he turned around and headed out of the room. When the door had clicked close again and he was alone, he walked to the closest chair and let himself drop on it.

He took off his glasses and cleared them with a corner of his sleeve. A part of him already regretted that request, if only because that would have meant having to keep up with Gilmore for even longer. On the other hand, saying goodbye to those two was something he really wanted to do, if only to be able to leave the place with a clearer and more peaceful mind. And to remind himself of the reason why he was going to stick around.

* * *

The window in the door opened, taking the three by surprise.

"It is already lunchtime?" Françoise asked.

"No. Please go put on the pajama you were given yesterday." A female voice calmly said through the window, getting the attention of everyone in the room. From the look he could catch of her from where he was, Albert saw she was wearing white, possibly a doctor or a nurse.

"What's going on?" He asked, standing up from his seat.

"You should get ready too, 004." One of the guards standing next to the woman said.

"Where are you taking them? What's going on?" Jet asked, walking right in front, a few steps away from it.

"It's not about training, this is sudden order from above. It doesn't apply to you, 002, you'll say here." The woman replied.

"Hey! What's this about--"

"Didn't you hear her? Hurry up!" The guard interrupted Jet.

"What the hell is this about? Where are you taking them?" He insisted, shouting.

"Calm down, 002." Françoise said, putting her hands on his arms.

"Calm? How can I be calm, what's going on?" He yelled in reply.

"Silence!" The guard screamed back, lifting his gun and pointing it at them through the window.

"It's alright, don't shout." 003 replied, turning to look at the guard. She looked back at Jet, and went on: "I know it's not easy given what's going on, 002, but please be quiet."

Jet glared at her. "What are you--"

"Please." She interrupted him, her voice almost pleading. "Promise me you'll keep calm until we'll be back."

He swallowed loudly, exchanged a look with 004, and nodded. "Okay." He said, his tone much more mellow.

She gave him a thin smile, and gently squeezed his shoulder. She then turned towards the door and, looking at the nurse, said: "I'm already wearing that pajama."

The woman nodded, then threw a glance at Jet. "It shouldn't take long. The sooner we go, the quicker you'll be back." She said.

After looking at the other two, Albert nodded. "I'm ready too."

"Good." The guard intervened. "Now step back, we're getting in. And you, don't try anything funny." He added, pointing the barrel of his gun at Jet. The window closed; a few seconds later the door opened and the guards walked in, their weapons pointed at them. Albert looked at Françoise raise her hands and head out, then did the same. Once out of the room, they both turned around to look at 002.

"Be careful." Jet commented, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Take care." Albert said, while Françoise answered him with a smile. The guards pulled them to opposite sides, and the door was slammed closed once again.

"Alright then. 004, come with us." One of the guards said. Albert nodded and walked close to him and the group of doctors standing around him.

"Please follow me." The nurse said, looking at Françoise. She looked hesitant for a moment, then walked next to the other woman.

" _Tout bien?_ " The nurse asked. Françoise nodded in silence.

"Alright, let's go." One of the men standing next to her ordered.

She gave Albert a look, and smiled.

He smiled back before being dragged away by his arms by two guards. He turned his head in her direction, until he and the group of people around him had turned a corner.

"Come on, walk!" One of the guards told Albert as he was being pushed into the elevator; he complied in silence.

When they arrived, he was brought to the same room from the day before. For a moment he also expected to see the exact same people, but that wasn't the case, even if they were all familiar faces.

"Good, right on time." One of the man said, walking close to him. "So, 004, do you remember the orders we gave you yesterday?"

"Yes, doctor Crofts." He replied, going over them mentally once more: you can use your name; be honest about how you're feeling physically with our guest, but don't say a word about the weapons you have in yourself; and most important, don't you dare trying to play games. "I guess I'll have to do the same today too, right?"

"Obviously, but there's more." The other replied while passing Albert a glove made of synthetic skin.

"This too, again?" Albert asked, taking the glove and slipping it over his right hand. "Are you going to operate on me like yesterday, too?"

"We don't think so." Crofts replied. "We'll definitely put you to sleep once more, that much I can tell you."

Albert refrained from making a sarcastic comment about how the man sounded a bit too gleeful about that, because of course he would. Instead, as he smoothed the glove on his right hand he gave a look at his right wrist, in the point where the fake skin of the glove met with the fake skin on his arm, and then to his left hand. It didn't look too convincing, definitely not when looking that close, and there was an obvious difference between how the two hands looked. But given the rest of his body it wasn't the first thing that would have jumped to the eye, definitely not to someone who was seeing him for the first time, like the guest from yesterday.

"Any problem?" Crofts asked.

"No." Albert answered. "Do I have to undress, too?"

"Not for the moment. Now sit down, and listen carefully." He said, pointing towards a chair on the other side of the room. Albert did as he was asked, walking calmly.

When he was sitting down, two guards and another man in a white coat approached him and stood at his sides, while Crofts stepped in front of him. "In case you get to meet with our guest again, there's a chance he'll ask you something more about you and your personal history. Here's what you'll have to tell him."

Albert let out a chuckle, putting his elbow on the back of the chair and resting his cheek on the palm of his hand. "Go ahead and tell me."

"First of all, cut that act and be more respectful. If we see you act like that with the guest, you know what's going to happen."

"Don't worry, I know well. I'm just interested, go on and tell me." Albert replied, defiantly. In reality he felt deeply nervous, not knowing what was going to happen next. He had the feeling this wasn't going to be the same as the day before.

"Stop that!" Crofts shouted.

"Right, right." Albert replied, sitting composed. Seeing that little outburst from Crofts had at least calmed his nerves a bit, and not just because of the satisfaction of seeing him altered.

The man glared at him, then exchanged a look with the other doctor. "Remember that, if you try to play smart with us, you're going to regret it. Doctor Ryan will be there, just to be safe and check you're not going to let something slip with the excuse of having a chat in German..." He then said, regaining his composure.

It took some effort for Albert to keep a straight face, after having seen the overreaction from Crofts. "I'll try, but it's difficult to think straight while you're half asleep and the anesthetic is wearing off."

"Do your best, then." Crofts said, grinning. "How well you're going to behave will influence how well you and your friends are going to do."

In a moment, Albert's nerves were shot again. As much as he tried to play it cool, they were still the ones with the upper hand there, and while he was painfully aware of it, he was also trying not to think about it too much.

He was sure that his nervousness was showing and decided to drop all pretenses for the moment, so he just nodded and decided to go along with him, and behave. "I see. I'm sorry, tell me what you want me to say."

Crofts' grin spread as he started to walk back and forth in front of Albert, taking long and wide steps and leering at him.

* * *

Jet cracked his knuckles one more time. He was using more strength than he should have needed, so much he could feel the muscles of his forearms tense, and his nails dig into his skin. But he needed to do something to vent out his anger somehow, and this was the only thing he could do without calling attention.

When he found himself in that state in the past he would have started shouting, or punching and kicking the wall or the door, at least until the guards sedated him with a shot of a stun gun, or stormed in his room and, after some fighting, restrained him and beat him up. Much to his surprise, the latter had happened quite often, despite being the least efficient and more dangerous, which had led him to believe it was because the people in there were about as bored or sadistic as he was angry.

Aftr that he would often wake up tied down to one of the laboratory labs, while one of the doctors, usually Brown, would slowly shake his head and complain just how much damage he had caused to his feet. It was either that, or a long sarcastic rant about how that kind of behavior wasn't going to help deal with the pain he felt in his legs at night. The only constant was the final speech bemoaning the fact that, if only he had been cooperative, things would have eventually turned out so much better for him as well.

Had the situation been different, he would have gladly started making a scene and hoped that the guards would have rushed in, so that he could have been able to get rid of his pent up anger by beating up a couple of them.

But this time he had to keep quiet and avoid doing anything that could have angered the guards or the doctors. He could handle a lot of things, but not the idea that his friends could end being roped into whatever sort of collective punishment those maniacs were ready to spring on them, possibly as a justification to cut them to pieces even further.

Then Jet remembered the moment when 003 had asked him to promise he would have behaved calmly while they were away, which made him smile for an instant.

He quickly chased that thought away, and went back to thinking about how much he wanted to scream and shout at the guards and the doctors, but especially to 001. He wanted to find that piece of shit, and beat the life out of him for the false hopes he had put into 004 and 003 about leaving this place, and for using them like that. That was what he had decided to concentrate on, to block out any other thought about his friends, so that they couldn't be used against them. And to let 001 know how much he hated him.

The microphones still on... how his friends had been dragged out of the room... how 001 had disappeared, clearly showing his real face... everything about this whole situation was as clear as it was upsetting. Something big was happening to his friends, and he was locked in that damned room.

And yet, despite being sure that whatever was going on would have haunted him for a long while, he just couldn't stop thinking about that silly promise 003 had made him swear before leaving the room. 'When we'll be back', she had said.

He didn't know why, but his mind just kept on coming back to those words. They gave him a strange feeling of calm, and he couldn't understand the reason for that. Maybe it was just how charming her optimism was, and a part of him needed that right now.

He was worried about them, the only rational reaction he could have to that was anger. But now he also wanted to think that they would have been back with him soon and that they would have been safe, even if after so much time in there he should have known better. He couldn't put his finger on the reason why he was forcing himself to focus on the positives. Maybe it was just that thinking about the awful things they could have done to them made him feel sick, he wondered.

Still, despite everything, he needed to stay calm, if only because he had promised it to 003. He didn't want to disappoint her, when she would have been back. Jet took in a deep breath, and clutched his closed fist in an even tighter grip with his other hand.

* * *

"[That's all, good.]" Mayniel said, finally giving Françoise a smile. A bit meekly, the younger woman returned it. "[If there's something else, before the visit starts...]"

Françoise thought about it for a moment. "[If it's not a problem, could I ask you something else?]" She decided to ask.

"[Of course.]" The nurse nodded.

"[Could you please get me something to read, for when I'm in the room?]"

"[Something to read?]" Mayniel repeated.

"[It's a bit boring, in the room with the other two...]" She explained.

"[I see...]" The other mumbled.

"[If it's possible, of course.]"

"[I'll ask, but I think there shouldn't be any problem.]" Mayniel replied after looking lost in thought for a few moments. Then, speaking in a lower voice, she added: "[And if there are, I'll find a way.]"

"[Thanks a lot.]" Françoise replied, with a whisper.

"[Sadly, I don't have many books in French with me, but I can ask around.]"

"[In English is fine too.]" She said. "[That will help me speak better.]" She then added, just to be safe. All she actually needed was some paper, but she obviously couldn't say that out loud without being asked a lot of questions about the reason why she needed it, or at least raise a lot of suspicion about it; Madame Mayniel would have had to report about it to the doctors, after all. On the other hand, asking for a book because she was bored was a completely different matter, and it would have allowed her to put her hands on some paper.

Mayniel smiled back and leaned against a wall, her arms crossed on her chest. "[Very well. Alright, all we have to do now is wait, they should be here in a few minutes.]" She replied, pouring water in a couple glasses sitting on a table, then drinking from one of them. About a minute passed, during which Françoise waited for Mayniel to say something, but nothing happened. The woman just stood up, slowly sipping water from her glass.

Françoise nodded and took the other glass. She wasn't thirsty, it was just to do something and avoid the awkward feeling that the silence caused.

It was weird, having Madame Mayniel not wanting to chat, but she decided to chalk that up to her having had a bad day. If what 001 had told them about the guests was true, she could see why. The nurse had probably been very busy, like any other person in there.

Then again, she really would have wanted to know. When they walked into the room Mayniel had looked slightly flustered, which had made Françoise worry at first; it was the very first time she had seen the nurse like that. But then, not too long after the nurse seemed to have completely regained her usual more casual demeanor as soon as she had started carrying out the routine checks on her.

It would have been for another time, Françoise thought as decided to stop worrying about that for now, and instead went over the story she had been told to tell the professor, in case he would have asked her questions. It was basically the same as the day before, but she had been given a few more smaller details to make what she was talking about more realistic and believable - or at least so she had been told, if she stopped to think about them for a few seconds they were sincerely ridiculous. She hoped that, if she was going to talk with doctor Kozumi, she would have been able to talk without averting her eyes, or feeling too embarrassed or awkward.

As she thought about this, Françoise could hear the noise of two pair of steps getting closer to their room. A quick look beyond the wall confirmed her suspicions that it was indeed them. With a movement of her head she signaled it to Mayniel, fell silent and started to mentally prepare herself for what was coming next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Спи спокойно, Ваня - Sleep well, Vanya
> 
> Tout bien? - Everything alright?


End file.
